The Keepsake
by windchymes
Summary: Some things you never forget, they just hurt too much to remember.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer.**

**Okay, this one is for Melanie, who betas my work (except she doesn't know I'm doing this) and who is good friend. **

**This story has been running around my head for close to a year. I keep pushing it aside and it keeps pushing right back and Melanie drops the odd hint, encouraging me to write it. I'm not sure how many chapters it will be and I'm really not sure about the whole story, the premise is probably a bit odd, you might need to suspend belief a bit :) **

**Here we go...I hope you enjoy :)**

**-0- -0- -0- -0- **

"Hey, Jake!" I nudge my best friend with my knee and he groans, fighting to stay asleep.

"Too early," he mutters and rolls deeper into my sofa.

"It's nearly noon," I grin, standing over him, hands on my hips, and nudge him again with my knee. He twists his head to look at me over his shoulder, he's frowning and his eyes are heavy with sleep.

"Noon? Are you serious?"

"Almost."

He blinks now and sits up, yawning, stretching. "Almost serious, or almost noon?" he asks, and at last I see it, that happy Jacob grin, even if it is a bit sleepy.

"Both," I declare and head for the small area of counter space with sink and cooktop that passes for a kitchen. "Breakfast...lunch?" I ask.

"Both," he echoes me and heads for the bathroom as I pull bacon and eggs from the fridge.

My new apartment is small, just three rooms, but it's affordable and all I need. And it's walking distance to the campus of Portland State University. It's good I'm not the sort of person who needs roommates because there's no space for that here.

I'm frying eggs and bacon and tomatoes as Jake walks back in, fresh from a shower, hair damp, and starts shoving yesterday's clothes into his backpack.

"Thanks for helping me move," I say over the sizzle of breakfast...or is it lunch? "I really appreciate it."

"No problem," he says without looking up. "Any time." He checks his phone and his goofy smile tells me he has a message.

"Beth?" I smirk and beneath his copper coloured skin Jacob begins a slow blush.

"Yeah." He texts something quickly and puts his phone away. I feel a rush of happiness for my friend that he's found _the one,_ his soul-mate, but it's tinged with just a little jealousy because I once thought I had found mine. I used to smile and blush that way about someone. And even though my someone couldn't blush, he used to smile that way about me. But that was a long time ago now. Two years ago next Tuesday to be exact, but I'm not counting.

"How many eggs?" I ask, pulling my mind back to now.

"How many you got?"

"Six."

"That'll have to do." And he's serious. I shake my head at werewolf appetites.

Outside it begins to rain. It's a soft shower and the drops begin a slow race down my windows.

"I can't believe you left sunny Florida for this," Jake scowls at the weather. "You sure you're not crazy?"

I shrug. "Maybe I am." I've certainly felt that way lots of times over the past couple of years. "I told you, I couldn't settle there. The college courses didn't really suit what I wanted to do, I didn't really connect with anyone...it was good to spend time with my mom, but apart from that it just didn't feel right."

Jake looks out the window again. "But grey skies and drizzle do it for you?"

I shrug. "Apparently."

Jake doesn't comment as I set a place for him at the counter and plate up. He eats greedily, like it's been months, not hours, since he's had a meal.

"How does Beth keep up with feeding you?" I ask, laughing, and he laughs too through a mouthful of bacon and eggs.

"Dunno," he finally mumbles. "Aren't you eating?"

"Can't. You haven't left me anything."

His mouth drops open, shocked, upset, and I laugh again.

"Gotcha! I made sure I ate before you woke up."

Now he glares and throws his napkin at me, but it misses as I walk over to the corner and start unpacking one of the two cardboard boxes there.

"You want a hand?"

Jake has already cleared his plate and comes towards me, crouching down amongst the boxes. Neither of them has been opened since I left Forks for Florida two years before. They stayed taped up and then came with me again a year later when I moved from Florida back to Forks for the summer while I waited for my transfer to Oregon.

It only takes a little while for the boxes to be emptied. Jake's hung my prints on the wall, I've put my books on the wonky shelves by the door. He hands me my CD's, one by one, as I line them up beside my small stereo.

"Alphabetical order?" Jake smirks at me. "That's so anal, Bella."

"Not as anal as some," I mutter and think vaguely of someone who categorised their music by year and then personal preference within that year.

I choose a disc and put it on. The music is bright and loud and I begin to grin as I nod my head in time with its beat.

Jake smiles. "I'm glad you got over your aversion to music," he refers to those dark days long gone.

"I got over a lot of things." I say the words, I don't necessarily believe them.

Jake sits back on the sofa while I stay on the floor, sorting now through my old collection of keepsakes that I keep in a shoebox.

"What's that?" Jake leans forward and picks something out. "A snow globe from Phoenix?" He shakes the glass ball and watches tiny flakes swirl and drift around a vivid green plastic cactus. "Are they serious? Snow in Phoenix?"

"Hey!" I snatch the globe back, offended on its behalf. "It's glitter, really. More of a glitter globe than a snow globe. And it's special. I've had it since I was eight when Renee took me to the Desert Botanical Garden."

Jake snorts and hands it to me as he looks in the box again.

"I made one of those when I was a kid, too," he grins. It's a box made of popsicle sticks that Charlie and I made together once during one of my summer visits.

Beneath it I see my well-worn copy of Wuthering Heights. I pull my old, dog-eared friend from the shoe box and flick through it's loose, yellowing pages. I've not seen it for two years. It was second hand when I bought it and now I can see its age is really starting to show. Some pages come free and flutter to the floor and I decide it's probably time to let the book go. I know the story off by heart, if I want I can always get another copy. But before I put it in the rubbish I shake it out gently over the floor.

"What are you doing?" Jake asks.

"I had a bookmark I really liked but I lost it ages ago. I'm just checking for it before I throw the book away."

Jake looks towards the shelves where the other books sit. "What's it look like?"

"A leather strip with Celtic patterns on it."

The book yields nothing except another couple of loose pages.

"Where's the last place you saw it?" He stands and walks to the shelves.

"Can't remember. It was before..." I stop for a second. "It was in junior year."

Jake starts flicking through books.

"Don't worry, Jake. It probably got lost when I moved the first time. No big deal."

His phone sounds and he grins when he sees the caller ID. He excuses himself as he steps outside for a moment, into the corridor. I smile and shake my head as I gather up Wuthering Heights and it's fly-away pages and go to put it in the bin. But at the last minute I can't do it and I re-assemble it and set it on the shelves.

When Jake comes back in I tell him he should probably get going.

"You throwing me out?" he grins.

"Yep. First day of classes tomorrow, I need to prepare and have an early night."

"It's two o'clock."

I roll my eyes. "Your girlfriend is missing you."

Jake grins. "Yeah, she is."

"And you miss her, so go."

I give him a shove and I might as well be shoving a brick wall, but he gets the message. He walks to his backpack.

"Oh, Beth says hi, and she hopes you've moved in okay." Then he frowns. "And she says she hopes I haven't eaten you out of house and home." I burst out laughing and he gives me a sheepish grin. "She wonders if she should be sending you a care package to make up for it."

"Jake, you've taken yourself away from home for two days and a night to help me, you've lugged boxes and bags and furniture, you slept on a sofa...I think _I _owe _you_."

"Nah," he says and pulls me into one of his deep, warm Jacob hugs. I feel safe here in the arms of my friend. He's seen me at my worst, he's been my rock, my sun, and without him I really don't know what shape I would be in now.

"Thanks," I whisper into his chest, and it's not just the move I'm thanking him for and I think he understands.

"Sure," he whispers back and kisses the top of my head. "So, call if you need anything."

"Yep."

"Let me know next time you're in Forks."

"I will."

"And if that rust bucket of yours needs work, just bring it by the garage."

"Oh, I haven't even asked how business is!" I look up at him, aghast at my rudeness and ignoring his slur against my truck.

"Sure you did," he grins down at me. "When I arrived at Charlie's yesterday. You asked how things were and I said things were good."

I roll my eyes. "That's hardly..."

He kisses the top of my head again. "Business is good. Old Joe let's me run the place two days each week now. When he retires in a couple of years I'll take over completely, as Manager. He says we're getting a lot of referred business because of me."

I beam up at my friend. "Jake, that's fantastic. But not surprising - you're the best mechanic I know."

"I'm the only mechanic you know. But yeah, it is fantastic."

"I'm so happy for you!"

"Thanks." He's blushing again now and I laugh. Then he steps out of our hug and grabs his backpack. He drapes an arm around my shoulder and looks around my apartment. "So, right college, good apartment, you're smiling, looking settled...I'm happy for you too, Bella. You are happy, aren't you?"

I think over his words. Am I happy? I'm happier than I was two years ago. Happier than a year...six months...three months ago. Gradually, slowly, little by little, I'm moving towards happiness. I suspect it will always be a light that's shining out of reach, but at least now it offers me some illumination. There was a time I thought I wouldn't survive, but now I know I will.

I'll never forget _him._ He's etched himself not just on my heart, but into my soul. He's in my thoughts, in each beat of my heart, but my tears have dried and I've stopped looking for him wherever I go. I've stopped running to answer the phone when it rings, or when there's a knock on the door. I don't look for signs or clues anymore. Looking back, sometimes I think he lied to me when he left, that maybe he did feel something for me. It's the sort of thing he'd do - he'd lie if he'd thought it was for my own good, and I don't know if that possibility makes me feel better or worse. I try not to think about it too much.

I look up at Jake and try a smile - they come more easily these days and he rubs his hand over my head.

He gives me a final hug, wishes me luck for tomorrow and disappears out the door. I watch from the window as his car drives down the street and out of sight.

-0-

By my second week I'm already feeling more settled than I ever did in Florida. My classes are much more to my liking and I've already been out for pizza and a movie with a group from my poetry tutorial.

By my third week I'm feeling right at home.

After a month it feels like the awkward year in Florida never happened. The soft light at the end of the tunnel seems just a tiny bit brighter, though not necessarily nearer.

On Tuesday of my sixth week I sit in the main library, books spread on the desk in front of me as I research Tudor England for my history unit. Someone pulls out the chair opposite me and I look up.

"Hi," whispers Alex. "Sorry I'm late." We're in the same study group for history. He's grinning at me as he pushes back his blond hair so it sits on his shoulders. Long hair doesn't always work on a guy, but it does on Alex. It works really well.

"Hi," I whisper back and watch as he pulls out his notes. He looks across at mine.

"Where are you up to?"

I give him a brief run-down on what I've covered. He nods and we get to work, fleshing out the theme for the assignment we've been paired up to do. Two hours later we stretch and yawn at the same time and then start laughing.

"Call it a day?" Alex asks.

"I think so. It's actually later than I thought."

It's almost seven o'clock and the library is almost deserted. They'll be closing in ten minutes. Alex clears his stuff, offers to walk me out but I want to borrow one of the books so I tell him to go ahead without me.

I sling my bag over my shoulder, grab the book and flick through the pages as I walk, head down, between the stacks towards the Loans Desk. In the distance I can hear the Librarian's voice; she's giggling and even after just six weeks here I know that's unusual, but before I can look up to see what's caught her fancy my attention is drawn to the carpet and I stop.

My bookmark is lying on the floor.

I stare at it for a moment, knowing it can't really be mine. There are probably hundreds like it.

I bend and pick up the strip of tan leather with its Celtic patterns of black dye. Some of the black is missing from the border around the edges, just like mine. Bewildered and confused I look absently at my bag. Had it been in there all along, only to fall out now? I shake my head, no; I've only had this bag since Christmas. I decide the bookmark probably isn't mine. I turn it over and in the bottom corner see the tiny, faded single letter drawn in pen..._B_

It _is _mine.

My brain doesn't know what to make of this. I try to build a connection, find a coincidence, something, _anything_ that would explain it being here. I rub my thumb over the ridges of the pattern, making sure it's real and not something I'm imagining.

"We're closing now." The Librarian's voice comes to me. The giggles are gone and she's back to her usual officious self. "Did you want to borrow that?"

"Oh, yes, sorry."

I hurry to the desk and she processes my loan. I shove the book in my bag and head out the door. It's almost dark outside, the lights from the building blaze brightly and I stand under them, still staring at the bookmark as it lays across my palm, still trying to find a reason, an explanation...that elusive _anything._

Suddenly, the hair on the back of my neck stands up. My skin pebbles in goosebumps and my body is alert. In the silence around me I hear the echo of footsteps and look up. I watch the figure come out of the gloom and as he comes down the path, before I can see his face clearly I know...it's in the set of his shoulders and the tilt of his head. And the way he walks...

It's Edward Cullen.

And I feel like I've gone into free fall. The world slips away and I'm left alone, floundering, helpless. There's no air in my lungs, my heart can't decide whether to stop beating or pound at triple pace - it decides to take turns with each as he comes closer.

I wonder if this is real. If _he _is real. Or is it just my mind playing cruel tricks. Memories I'd pushed away, good and bad, come roaring back; I'm impaled on some and embraced by others. Coming all at once, in shocking chaos and confusion, they crash over me in waves of hurt and happiness that defy description.

Somehow I remain still and upright.

Dusk is his backdrop. He's more beautiful than I remembered, and in the early evening light the shadows catch the planes of his face, the angle of his cheekbones, and I'm struck dumb. I can see his eyes now. They're amber, rich and deep and I can't think of how many times I've drowned in those eyes.

He sees me but his expression is still and easy, and I'm struck that there is no surprise or recognition. Then I wonder if he's planned this, if Alice has seen me in her visions and he's come back to me. I'm shaking now, and though I'm frozen to the spot my body is aflame. I try to say his name but the words won't come. He moves closer, and for a surreal second I think he's going to walk right past me, into the library, but he stops. His head turns in that way that I know so well and his eyes fall on my hand that holds the bookmark. Now he smiles and lifts his eyes to mine. I gasp, the sound tumbles over my lips as they tremble. We stare at each other for just the most fleeting fraction of a second and I expect to see something there...but I don't. There's nothing.

"There it is," his voice is as it always was - smooth, velvet. His eyes flicker down to my hand and back again to my face. "I think you've found my bookmark. I was hoping I'd left it here."

He's still smiling, politely, like we're strangers. Like _I'm _a stranger. He holds out his hand, his long, pale fingers just inches from mine, but I can't move. I'm like a deer in headlights. After a moment he reaches out and takes the leather strip from me, picking it up from the end so he doesn't touch my skin, and then grasps it in his hand. "Thank you very much," he says and turns to walk away.

"Edward?" I've found my voice, though it's not much of one. His name comes out strangled and he turns, his brow furrowed slightly. And I know that look - he could almost be annoyed now.

"Yes?" he says.

"It's...it's Bella."

I rest my empty hand on my chest. He smiles and nods.

"Pleased to meet you, Bella," he says. Then he holds up the bookmark. "And thanks again."

He turns again and continues to walk away. Unable to move, I watch him go and as the fading light swallows him up I feel the world slipping away from me. My knees buckle and everything goes black and I never feel myself hit the ground.

**A/N: Chapter two is almost finished and should be up in just a few days, hopefully. **

**Thank you for reading :)**


	2. Chapter 2

__**Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**What a reaction to the first chapter, thank you so much :)**

**Thank you Melanie for speedy betaing.**

**This is heavy sort of chapter, lots of information...lets see what's wrong with Edward.**

**-0- -0- -0- -0- -0- -0- -0- -0- -0-**

_**Two Years Earlier...in woods between Seattle and Forks...**_

Edward stared into the flames. The smoke, purple and acrid, curled around him as he watched the last of Victoria crackle and burn.

She was gone.

Bella was safe.

His fingers clawed at the dirt.

The flames died down. The sky grew darker, the moon came out. Edward poked at the pile of ashes with his foot. Nothing was left.

She was gone.

Bella was safe.

His fingers clawed at his hair.

And at his chest where the pain burned him.

Until this moment Edward had had a purpose – to keep Bella safe. But now that Victoria was gone, his purpose was gone.

Everything was gone.

He'd hoped the demise of the vicious redhead and her small band of newborns would bring him some sort of relief, but it was still pain that consumed him. Raw, burning, crippling pain that would last eternity.

Eternity.

Eternity without Bella.

Edward wished he'd died in the battle, too. He wished it was his ashes smouldering on the ground; his smoke curling into the air and leaving the earth.

When Edward heard the thoughts of the rogue newborn approaching through the trees, he didn't move, he just hoped the young female would know what to do. As the hands reached for him he stayed still; as the jaws clamped down on his neck he didn't flinch. When the teeth tore into him he merely shut his eyes and welcomed oblivion.

His last thoughts were of Bella.

-0- -0- -0- -0- -0-

_**Two Years Later...on the campus lawns outside the Library...**_

_**Bella's point of view**_

It's so dark. I can't seem to move and my eyes are heavy. I struggle to open them and a cool hand passes over my forehead, leaving a trail of heat behind.

"Shh, shh, it's alright, Bella, you're alright...shh..."

His voice is so soft, so gentle and soothing, like the calm after a storm. And I realise that's what this is... Edward is here with me and at last my storm is over.

His voice caresses me, consoles me, telling me I'll be alright and for the first time in a long while I feel real peace and I think I want to stay here a while, in this dark quiet place with his touch on my skin and his words in my ears. But then the words stop , and his touch leaves me, and I struggle, frantically trying to drag myself back to the conscious world. In my mind I'm reaching for him, but my arms stay still, they won't co-operate. I strain to listen but can hear nothing over the sound of my blood as it pounds now in my ears. But then someone calls my name.

"Bella? Bella?"

A hand taps my cheek, but its touch is warm.

"Bella? Can you hear me?"

At last my eyes open and meet Alex's blue gaze. He's worried, frowning and asking me if I'm alright. My eyes dart left and right but we seem to be alone.

I struggle to sit but he pushes me back gently onto the grass. The sky is dark above him.

"You fainted. You should probably stay lying down for a few minutes."

I do as I'm told because I'm in no state to argue. My mind is lost, my thoughts are chaotic, and I wonder now as I look around, if I'd imagined everything...the book mark, Edward, hearing his voice, feeling his touch. It's been a long time but I wonder if the hallucinations that haunted me in the first months after he'd gone, have returned. Could I be going crazy again?

"Are you okay?" Alex asks. He runs his hand through my hair, feeling for bumps, I realise when he says, "Yeah, you didn't hit your head."

"I...I thought you'd gone home."

"I started to, but when I got to the parking lot I realised you didn't have your car." He shrugs. "I know you don't live far but it was almost dark...I came back to offer you a lift." He's staring at me warily. "Are you okay?" he asks again. "Want me to take you to a doctor?"

"No," I wait a moment then start to sit up and this time he doesn't stop me. His hands are on my arms, helping.

"You sure you're okay?"

"Just forgot to eat lunch," I lie. "That's all."

And suddenly his expression eases. "Low blood sugar? My mom gets that, too. Come on, I'll take you home, can you stand? Or should I carry you?"

"Stand," I say quickly and he helps me to my feet and we walk slowly to his car. He keeps one hand on my elbow, just in case.

Alex talks as he drives me home. I try to keep track of what he's saying so I can say the right things in the appropriate places, but while I'm trying to think straight my mind is running in ever-faster circles, trying to work out if I'm crazy, and I can't seem to grasp any of the thoughts as they fly past.

Alex walks me to my door and won't leave until he's secured my promise that I'll eat something straight away. I agree because I'm anxious for him to go so I can be alone and think.

"You feel okay?" he asks one more time as he starts to leave.

"I'm fine. And Alex, thank you...I really appreciate you helping me. You've been great." I smile. "I promise I won't do this to you again."

"No worries," he smiles back and heads for the stairs. "But it wasn't all me. You were lucky Edward was there to catch you."

I almost break the key off in the lock.

"What?" I clutch the doorhandle as I stare at Alex. He frowns.

"Edward caught you. Edward Cullen. That's why you didn't hit your head."

"Ed...Edward?" . I wasn't hallucinating again. He had been there.

"I thought you knew,"Alex goes on. "He was headed for the library when you fainted. He caught you before you hit the ground and he was with you when I turned up." Alex takes a few steps towards me again. "I thought you knew he was there, you were saying his name."

"Was I? I...I thought...where did he go?"

Alex is still frowning, his eyes are wary. "I don't know. He said he had to be somewhere and could I manage alone. I said sure."

"So you know him?"

"He's in my sociology class. You sure you're okay? You've gone really pale."

I can tell that I'm creeping Alex out. I put a smile on face and try to look normal.

"Sorry...," I roll my eyes and wave my hand around. "I'm still a bit...spacey. Embarrassed, too, you know, fainting around people I hardly know."

"Oh." Alex relaxes a little, his frown softens. "Yeah, it's okay. Don't worry about it. But I really think you need to eat something right now. Before I go," he adds.

He comes forward now and pushes my door open, leading me inside. Eating is the last thing I want to do, but he makes me sit while he puts together a haphazard sandwich of cheese and chicken and marvels at the fact I have real food in my fridge.

"It's just instant noodles in my kitchen," he grins.

I'm smiling. I need to keep my thoughts and feelings at bay right now while Alex is here, and

somehow I manage. I detach myself, I've become good at that, and it's as if I'm watching a stage play from front row seats and the last hour of my life has happened to someone else.

Alex mentions Edward again as he searches for a plate. "He said you'd only been fully unconscious for less than a minute."

"I should probably thank him," I say.

"If you can find him," Alex smiles. "He comes and goes a bit. Seems a nice enough guy, though. Quiet. Bit unusual."

Comes and goes. Quiet. Unusual. That sounds right.

"Do you know much about him?" I ask. I'm vaguely aware of my nails digging into my palms. Maybe I'm not as detached as I thought.

"Not a lot," he says and hands me my sandwich.

-0- -0- -0-

Once I've eaten Alex leaves. I tell him I'm going to bed but instead I sit on the sofa,

hugging myself while my mind tries to fathom what's going on. But it fails, because this is too big for me to take in. It's too much...seeing Edward again, his cold reaction to me...

_But he came back to help you. He didn't let you fall. _

The thought is comforting in the confusion of everything else. But then I remember high school, and blood typing and my nausea, and how Edward had carried me in his arms to the nurse's office. But tonight, despite his gentle touch and soothing words, he left me lying on the grass for someone else to look after.

Now I feel like someone has taken an electric beater to my brain. And my heart.

I close my eyes and go over those few minutes outside the library. I relive them, trying to understand, trying to make sense of his cool, impassive expression, his polite words..._pleased to meet you, Bella_...like we were strangers, like he'd never seen me before.

Like I had never existed.

Tears begin to fall down my cheeks as this new rejection begins to really sink in. It flows like poison through my veins, contaminating the life I've clawed back since he'd left, polluting it with fresh desolation and despair. I wasn't good enough in Forks and now, two years later, I'm still not good enough.

No, worse...now, _I'm not even worth his acknowledgement._

Bastard.

Did he think I wouldn't recognise him? Did he think I'd forgotten? What the hell _did_ he think? That it was better to pretend we'd never met?

Suddenly, after all the progress I've made over the past two years, I'm back at square one. I'm back in those woods and Edward Cullen is still telling me I'm not good enough.

The poison evaporates, giving way to anger and it consumes me.

"Bastard," I hiss and pull my hands roughly through my hair.

"Bastard!" I growl and now I'm up, prowling my living room. The space feels too small for the fury that's growing inside me and I open my lungs and scream...

"BASTARD!"

I pick up this morning's coffee mug and hurl it at the wall. It explodes, showering red shards of china over the floor, but it's not enough. Not nearly enough. I throw my sandwich plate and watch it disintegrate. I grab my breakfast bowl from the sink and hurl that too. And the purple scented candle.

As I look around for something else to throw there's frantic knocking at my door. I assume it's Mrs Upshot from next door, complaining about the noise, but when I compose myself a little and open up I see Alice Cullen. And Carlisle. And I know earlier today this would have been a shock, but not now. Edward has wrung the last bit of shock out of me and as I stare at the people who were once like my family and who abandoned me in the blink of an eye...I'm still just angry.

"Alright, then," I say, flinging the door wider and glaring, daring them to enter. "Come in and tell me what the fuck is going on!"

-0- -0- -0-

The moment is surreal as I stand in my small living room with Alice and Carlisle. They look the same of course. I think of all the times I had hoped and wished for something like this, some sort of reunion, contact, _anything_...but those hopes died long ago. I haven't wished for a while.

Now, my defences are up, I won't let myself be hurt again - not by them, not by _him._ I'm stronger than that, now. I hope.

No-one seems to know how to start. We stand in awkward silence, my chest heaving and my eyes glaring, until Carlisle finally speaks.

"We understand we might not be welcome; it's very good of you to see us, Bella. Thank you."

His words disarm me. I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't acknowledgement that I might not want them. And now, in the face of that, and Carlisle's politeness and the genuine care and concern I see in his eyes, my anger begins to dull. And maybe their appearance_ has_ shocked me. I've only sworn like that maybe three times in my life and now, despite my anger, I feel slightly ashamed that one of those times was aimed at Carlisle Cullen.

Carlisle Cullen who is standing in my living room. With Alice.

I'm starting to feel a little overwhelmed.

"Um, sorry about...before," I mutter, reclaiming part of my better nature. "Would you like to sit down?"

But my defences are still up. I've become stiff and formal and I motion to the sofa and take the rocking chair for myself. It creaks and groans as I sit. "Edward's not with you?" With great effort I make his name fall casually from my lips.

"No."

"But I did see him tonight, didn't I? That's why you're here, isn't it?"

Despite my attempt at cool my tell-tale heart is hammering in my chest and I know they can hear it.

I turn to Alice, the girl who was like a sister to me. She's biting her lip, twisting her hands in her lap and blinking her eyes as though she might cry and I feel a chink in my armour.

A tear slides down my cheek.

This is Alice.

"I've missed you," she whispers.

I've missed her too. So much.

I've missed them_ all_ so much.

The chink gets bigger, another tear is all the tiny vampire needs and a second later I'm engulfed in her stony hug.

_"I'msorryI'msorryI'm'sorry_," she chants as I cling to her now, hugging her too. Her embrace is cold, but I haven't felt so warm in so long. "I'm so, so sorry..." she whispers.

"We all are," Carlisle murmurs softly and over Alice's shoulder I can see sorrow and remorse etched in his features now. "What we did was wrong. We should never have left you that way."

I nod, agreeing with him, and sniff, wiping at my eyes as Alice pulls back. She doesn't go back to the sofa, but sits on the floor beside the rocking chair, holding my hand.

"It was wrong," I sniff again. "No-one said goodbye, no-one explained, you were just gone."

Carlisle reaches out, taking my other hand for a moment, and apologises once more. Through his touch I can feel his regret.

"I'm assuming it was Edward's idea?" I say, wiping at my eyes.

"It was never his desire to hurt you," Carlisle says. "But at the time it seemed..." he breaks off, seemingly to gather his thoughts. "Edward believed there was no other way. Your safety was paramount to him and he was adamant..."

Alice shakes her head a little. "He wasn't just adamant, Carlisle, he was unreachable." She turns to me. "That night, he wouldn't be reasoned with, you couldn't talk to him, he was like a crazy person..."

"So you all just went along with him?" My tone is just this side of accusatory, until I realise what they've said. "He was upset about leaving?"

"Distraught," Carlisle answers simply.

The world stops spinning...then starts again at triple time.

"He told me he didn't want me anymore," I whisper. I'm almost too scared to think what this means. "He said I'd been a distraction..."

Carlisle winces and Alice drops her eyes.

"He lied to you." I feel her hand gently squeeze mine. "He always loved you."

The small part of my brain that always wondered if he'd lied starts yelling that it told me so.

"He was trying to protect me, wasn't he?"

"Yes."

"Did you know...?"

"That he lied? Not until later," Carlisle says. "Not until the damage was done. Not until we'd already gone."

Edward lied because he loved me. He left because he loved me. He has always loved me. And I don't know what to do with this new knowledge, on top of everything else it's way too much and all I can do now...is cry.

But as the tears flow and Alice pulls me onto the sofa and into her arms, I'm not only crying for me...I'm crying for him too, for what he's done to himself, to us. For the hurt and the waste and the loss.

"Stupid, stupid vampire," I gulp and hiccough as Alice hands me the tissue box from the side table. "Stupid, arrogant…when I get hold of him..."

"You still love him?" Alice asks.

My body shudders with sobs.

"I've tried not to."

It's true, I've tried and tried not to love Edward Cullen, but it's like trying not to be five feet four. Or trying not to have brown hair. I can wear heels, I can use dye, but they just cover up what I am. And what I am…is in love with Edward Cullen. I always will be. Even if twenty minutes ago I wanted to rip his head off.

I don't how long I cry, but it feels like an age before I finally lift my head and sniff my last. Alice's designer shirt is stained with regret and pain. I touch the silk collar gently.

"Sorry," I say. "I think I ruined your shirt."

She actually snorts, a delicate little sound. "Like I'm worried," she says and I smile weakly.

"You have others?"

"Tonnes."

Of course she does. This is Alice.

I rub my eyes and Carlisle brings me a glass of water. I drink it gratefully while he begins to clean up the devastation on the floor.

"Please don't worry..." I start to say but he's finished before I get the sentence out.

"All done," he smiles, dumping my broken crockery in the rubbish bin. He sets the purple scented candle on the side table and sits in the rocking chair now as I sit next to Alice.

"I thought I'd cried myself out a long time ago," I murmur. "Guess I was wrong." I take a deep breath and pull myself together. I need a cool head now if the Cullens are back and I'm going to get to the bottom of all this.

"Okay," I say, pushing my hair back from my face and pulling myself together. "Where is he? I have to see him..."

Carlisle holds up a hand and I stop.

"What?"

"There are some things we need to explain," he says, and though his lips are smiling his eyes are wary.

"What things? You mean about tonight...," I stop, needing to clarify exactly what they know before I get too wrapped up in my questions. "I'm guessing you know what happened when I ran into him at the library tonight?" I look back and forth between them.

"We know," Alice says. "I saw it just before it happened. It was quite a shock to see you there, in the vision, with Edward." She shares a look with Carlisle.

"It was very unexpected," he says.

I blink at Alice, surprised. "So you didn't already know I was in Portland?"

"No," she shakes her head. "Actually, I've not been able to see you clearly for a long time now. I get flashes, they come and go, but that's all." She looks down at our hands. "I think it's because we haven't been a part of each other's lives...the visions are always strongest for the people closest to me. Not that we weren't close," she looks up quickly. "You were like my sister, I don't mean..."

I shake my head, letting her know it's okay. "But you saw your brother's reaction to me?"

"Yes," Alice whispers. "And your reaction, too."

"Are you feeling alright now?" Carlisle asks. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, and looks closely at me. I know he's probably checking my eyes for signs of concussion or something.

"I'm fine. I just want to know what's going on. Do you know why Edward was acting like we'd never met? It was like he'd never even..."

"Bella..." Carlisle interrupts gently and takes a slow breath. "Edward doesn't know who you are. He has no idea at all."

His words stop me in my tracks.

"That's not possible." I look from one to the other. "You're saying he has amnesia? What, he got a bump on the head and forgot about me?" I can hear my voice rising in disbelief, this is laughable. "He's a _vampir_e," I tell them, as if they didn't know. "He has flawless memory, perfect recall..."

"It's not amnesia, as such," Carlisle interrupts again, stopping me before I get too worked up.

"What then?"

"It's a long story," Carlisle sighs and I feel Alice's hand grip mine harder. She gives me a weak smile.

"Get ready for a bumpy ride," she says.

As Carlisle begins I can see from his expression, from the way his body is rigid in the chair, that this is hard for him to talk about. I wonder if it will be hard for me to listen.

And it is.

My heart breaks as Carlisle talks about Edward's unbearable pain when he left me, how the only things that kept him going were his belief that he was doing the right thing for me - and his plan to kill Victoria.

At the mention of that name I sink back into the sofa, stunned.

"But the wolves chased her away..." I murmur.

Alice and Carlisle look at me and I manage to give them a vaguely coherent rundown of Jake and the pack and Victoria and Laurent - how the wolves killed _him _and chased _her _away. But I don't give Carlisle or Alice any time to digest this latest piece of news; I want to know more about Edward.

Alice tells me about the tracking, the false leads, and how Edward finally discovered Victoria outside Seattle, training up a band of newborns to help her get back into Forks and destroy me.

"We all fought," Alice says. "In woods outside the city. Edward killed Victoria himself, but

afterwards..." she trails off and looks at Carlisle uncertainly.

"What? What happened?"

Carlisle sighs. "We're not certain. The battle was over, there were no more newborns, Victoria was dead and Edward wanted to be alone to watch her burn." I shiver and Carlisle nods as a dark shadow passes over his face. "But he didn't come out of the woods. When we went to find him..." Carlisle drops his head. "He'd been harmed. I won't go into the details."

I feel the world shrink away from me and I have to catch my breath.

"Injured? But, he's..." I search for the word. "Indestructible! He stops trucks with his bare hands, he can't get _harmed_."

"He's immortal, not indestructible," Carlisle corrects me, gently. "It takes a lot to harm or kill a vampire, but it can be done."

And I know this, I was there when James was ripped apart by Alice and Emmett and Jasper, but in my mind Edward is, and always has been, unbreakable.

"But you saved him, right? Because it wasn't a ghost I saw tonight."

"No, not a ghost. It was him." Carlisle smiles wryly but then his face becomes serious again. "But a different him."

"Different?"

"Bella, something attacked Edward in those woods, no doubt a newborn we'd missed, and..."

"But wouldn't he fight it off?" I interrupt.

"I would have thought so," Carlisle says darkly. "That's what we don't understand, and he doesn't remember. We don't know exactly what happened in that clearing."

"But Edward...?"

"I was able to treat Edward's injuries," Carlisle goes on. "Physically he recovered very quickly."

_Physically._

Now things start falling into place. I take a slow breath and close my eyes as I fill in the blanks.

"But when he'd recovered he didn't remember me." I can barely get the words out. Carlisle leans forward now, he reaches out to take my hand gently. My eyes open slowly, heavily. My heart doesn't know whether to fly or sink; on one hand I have a reason for his actions tonight, but on the other..._he doesn't remember me._ I turn away, staring at the darkness through the window as Carlisle speaks.

"Bella, after we left Forks, killing Victoria was an obsession for Edward...keeping you safe was the only reason he kept existing and once he'd fulfilled that responsibility, once she was dead...I believe he couldn't live with the pain of leaving you."

"So his mind blocked me out."

"I think it was either that or self-destruction."

Suddenly I need air. This space is too small and I feel like all the pain, mine and Edward's, is suffocating me. I go to the window and throw it open and stick my head out.. The night air is cold and I take deep, gulping breaths while my heart shatters and burns. I whisper his name into the darkness and it breaks on my lips. My hands clutch at the window sill.

"Bella?" Alice is behind me. "Bella?"

"Hasn't he seen me in your thoughts?" I gasp, whirling around and staring at them both. Carlisle is standing now too. My face feels wet and I wipe at it with my sleeve. It seems I've been crying again and haven't even realised. "Or doesn't anyone think of me?"

"Bella, Edward has lost his gift."

It takes a while for Carlisle's words to register. I blink at him, dumbly.

"You're saying he can't read minds now?"

"That's right."

I don't even know what to say to this. It's like I'm so full of pain and confusion right now I don't have room for anything else and this latest piece of news just sits on the surface, unable to be absorbed.

Carlisle seems to understand and answers the question I can't even think to ask.

"The only theory I can come up with is that when his subconscious locked away everything painful it's done it very, very thoroughly. His mind won't even let him be reminded through the thoughts of others."

"But, it's part of him," I say, bewildered. "Can he do that, just shut it off?"

"Apparently. The human brain is a mystery to doctors, I'm at a complete loss with a vampire one."

"Especially Edward's" Alice adds.

"But he depends on the mind reading, how has he coped..." I trail off, still trying to grasp this.

"It's been a struggle," Carlisle admits and I can see in his face, and hear in his voice, just what a struggle it has been. "He's had to learn to read people soley by their faces and voices and body language. He was very lost, and very angry for a while. In some ways he was like a newborn again."

"But now?"

"He's learnt to manage."

Oh, Edward...

I have no words, nothing. I stare down at my feet thinking about my poor, lost vampire. I hug myself, wishing I could hug him.

"Does he remember anything about Forks? Anything at all?"

My question is met with a shake of the head from Alice. She takes my hand and leads me back to the sofa. Carlisle takes his place again in the rocking chair. Funny, it doesn't creak when he sits in it.

"He remembers some things from before you arrived," Alice says, softly. "He knows Victoria was a threat to the town and he believes that was why we went after her. And he knows his injuries have caused part of his memory to go missing. It frustrated him, but compared to losing the mind reading, the memory loss didn't really rate." I nod, understanding that would be the case. "But he also believes, based on what he _does_ remember of Forks, that he's not missing anything important." She frowns. "I'm sorry."

I drop my head into my hands and in the silence around me I try to let it all sink in. I absorb and digest and I wonder what all this will mean. Quiet sounds I normally don't hear are amplified – the clock ticking, the hum of the refrigerator. Outside a cat yowls in the distance. I stare back at the open window, watching the gauzy curtain fluttering in the cold breeze. The fabric ripples and waves, moving in and out of the window in a smooth even rhythm. I realise it's a long time since I've wondered if Edward will ever come through my window again.

And suddenly, I know. I know what I have to do.

"I have to tell him," I say, jerking my head up and I'm on my feet again, pacing the room as my mind races and the words tumble from my mouth and it's a huge effort not to go running out the door, I want so desperately to go to him, and hold him. "I have to tell him. He has to know it's me and everything will be alright, we'll be okay. He'll remember, I know he will, if he gets my scent..." I stop and turn, staring at Alice and Carlisle. "Why didn't my scent effect him? When I saw him outside the library he didn't even flinch." Not the merest twitch of a nostril. "Why?"

I watch Carlisle and Alice exchange a look. Another shock awaits me.

According to Alice, my scent has changed. Not a lot, it's very subtle, but obviously just enough that it doesn't effect Edward the way it used to. Enough that she and Carlisle noticed as soon as I opened the door.

"Are you serious?" I look from one vampire to the other. "How? How can that happen?"

"I can't be sure," Carlisle answers. "But I can make an educated guess."

Apparently stress can do it and I gape at Carlisle as he explains, very delicately, how ongoing, long-term emotional strain can cause chemical changes in a human body.

My hand goes to my hair. It used to have waves, but it's straight now. And not quite so thick. My period stopped for months after Edward left me and it's only this last year that it's made a shaky, irregular return. The doctor in Florida told me all this was caused by stress. I guess my scent being effected too isn't such a big leap.

I blink at Carlisle.

"Oh...well, I guess that will make it easier for Edward, and once I've told...,"

"Bella, I know you want to tell Edward the truth," Carlisle interrupts gently, "But I'm going to ask you please not to do that."

"What?" I stare at him, dumbfounded.

"Please."

"No!" I throw my hands in the air. How can he even suggest that? "No. You can't keep this from him anymore, not now..."

Carlisle puts a careful, calming hand on my upper arm and I stop. His voice is gentle but firm when he speaks.

"Bella, Edward has gone to enormous trouble to block out something incredibly painful, and I believe he's done this purely to survive. So, he needs to remember in his own time, when his subconscious believes he's ready to handle it, and not before. Obviously I can't tell you what to do, but if you speak with Edward again I must stress that it would be better if you didn't tell him you have a shared past, or what has happened between you. It could do him a lot more harm than good."

He watches me closely, his vampire eyes not dangerous, but serious and stern…he means this. And though every instinct is still telling me to run to Edward right now and tell him who I am and what we mean to each other, I can see the sense in what Carlisle is saying, I can see the importance of what he's telling me. And what would I say to Edward? _Hi, I'm the love of your life, but you cut me out of your memory because of the awful way we broke up._ Yeah, I can see that going down well.

"How long?" I know, even before I finish the words, that there's no answer.

"We have no way of knowing," Carlisle says. "He could remember everything tomorrow, next week, a hundred years from now."

My eyes close and I shiver at the thought of Edward remembering in a hundred years, when I'm gone.

"I understand," I nod and Carlisle smiles, his eyes and body relax.

"Thank you, Bella." He hand gives my arm a gentle squeeze, then he lets go but he doesn't sit. Instead he runs his fingers over his chin - it seems he's considering his next words carefully.

"May I ask you something?" he says. His tone is apologetic now and I tense, wondering what's coming next, wondering if I can take anymore – I don't think I can.

"Um, okay," I say nervously.

"Bella, we've given you a great deal to take in and I know you'll need time to think, but, it would be presumptive of us to assume that you would still hope for a future with Edward."

"Oh..."

"It's clear you still care for him, love him, but you might have moved on, you might have different plans for yourself that would not ultimately include him, and if you have, I understand, of course. But if that_ is_ the case, then for Edward's sake, I ask you not to make contact with him. Don't try to be his friend because if he comes to remember you, and you want different things, I don't think he could lose you twice."

His words come like a jolt. And it's true, I have started making plans for a future without Edward, I've had no choice but to do that. But my heart hasn't moved on. It never will.

"I've not moved on," I say simply. "Not how you mean."

Carlisle smiles. "I'm also thinking of you, Bella."

"Me?"

"For _your _sake, if you do seek him out, if you do want to try to re-establish a friendship, or more, you must realise that Edward might not. For him it would be starting from a new beginning, and this time, for whatever reason, he might not choose the path he did before_. _He might decide to keep his distance."

"But, if he loves me..."

I can see pain in Carlisle's eyes now. "Right now he doesn't _remember_ that he loves you. He doesn't know. I'm sorry."

Those words seem to sum it all up. Edward hasn't just forgotten _me_, he's forgotten that he _loves_ me. Somehow this realisation hurts even more and I wonder how it's possible that he could see me tonight and not know what he felt, what he _still feels_, deep inside, locked away. My mind sifts through memories of our perfect summer together, the playfulness, the laughter and kisses, the gentle touches...all forgotten.

I can feel my heart grinding to a halt and I sway a little on my feet. Alice reaches for my hand and pulls me down onto the sofa. Carlisle crouches in front of me. I look at him, lost. He touches my cheek gently, a small caress of support and comfort.

"I wish I had happier things to tell you," he says. "But you also need to consider that the reasons Edward left are still there. You're still from very different worlds, there is still an element of danger. If his memory does return there's no knowing what decisions he will make."

"Are you trying to scare me off?"

He shakes his head. "I just want you to think very carefully. For both your sakes. I don't want either of you to be hurt again."

"So, you're saying, I could lose him twice, too?"

"I am."

There's silence again and I stare down at the floor, at an old cigarette burn in the carpet that I hadn't noticed before.

"What's he like now?" I ask. "Is he very different?"

"Not very," Alice whispers and strokes my hair. "He's still Edward. He still loves his cars, and his music. He plays the piano a lot. He hates wrestling with Emmett or Jasper because he can't pick their next moves out of their brains, but we can play chess with him now. And card games." I lean against her, my head resting on her rock-hard shoulder. "His patience is less than it was."

"It was never very good."

"No," I can hear her smiling. "It wasn't. He likes to be alone a lot now," she says quietly. "Even more than before." Her hand is still moving over my hair. After everything it feels so comforting and I wish I could just stay here like this for a while and let the world fall away.

"Is he happy?"

"He wants to be."

I close my eyes as I nestle against Alice and I think over Carlisle's words.

Even if I approach Edward with friendship, he might not want to pursue it. The thought slices at my heart and I wonder if I can put myself at risk again. Can I survive losing him a second time? Can I take the chance?

Just as defeat and desolation begin to wash over me, a tiny spark of light comes through the gloom – a small beacon of hope.

"He came back for my bookmark," I say softly, sitting up straight and lifting my eyes to look at Carlisle, then Alice. "That must mean something, mustn't it?"

Carlisle smiles, surprise in his eyes, and Alice grins.

"In that case," Carlisle smiles wider, "I suggest you let nature take its course."

-0- -0- -0-

By the time Alice and Carlisle leave it's midnight and I have a new direction. We've talked and talked and talked and though I'm beyond tired I lie in my bed with sleep nowhere in sight.

I'll take Carlisle's advice and won't be seeking Edward out directly. I'll let things happen naturally, in their own time, however hard that will be for me knowing he's here, in the same city, at the same school...but this isn't about me. It's about him.

_Let nature take it's course _has become my mantra.

I roll onto my side and stare out the window. Amongst other things tonight I've learned that Edward is the only Cullen at college; he's studying psychology this time around, no doubt trying to find answers to his lost memory and his vanished gift. He's also in the process of choosing a new car and has tickets for a jazz concert next Friday. Tonight he's at home, sitting in his room reading, according to Alice.

I asked about the rest of the family and Alice has been busy researching her human past with Jasper helping her. Rosalie and Emmett are temporarily absent, in Alaska visiting friends. Carlisle works night shifts and cloudy days at a local hospital and Esme is doing some quiet behind-the-scenes charity work. Alice has suggested I come to the house sometimes when Edward isn't there, but I've said no. It's not that I don't want to see them - I do, although if I'm honest I'm nervous at the thought of laying eyes on Jasper again...but it will be hard enough pretending to Edward that I'm a stranger without making secret visits to his family behind his back. And I'm being careful, I'm not ready to go rushing back into the Cullen fold. I don't want to get too attached to them all again, in case this all comes to nothing. However, I've let my little spiky-haired pixie friend know she's welcome to visit me anytime she wants. That made her giggle, and the sound rang like silver bells in my ears and made me smile too.

But now I wonder when I will get my chance to pretend that I'm that stranger.

_Let nature take its course. _

The building creaks. The wind rattles at the window. I hug my pillow and stare out at the blackness pin-pricked with silver. I wonder what Edward's Portland bedroom looks like. Does he have his leather couch? Is he lying on it, stretched out with one arm behind his head, one leg bent at the knee so he can rest his book against his thigh? I've seen him in that pose so many times.

So many images, so many memories. I've gone so long pushing them back and now that I'm letting them come they're overwhelming. They come and they come and so do my tears.

Finally I yawn and fall asleep as dawn approaches.

-0- -0- -0-

A week later I sit in the library, waiting for Alex.

I've seen Edward only once more in the last seven days. He came out of the Administration block on Friday, heading across the lawns towards the Arts faculty. His hands were in the pockets of his jeans. He had a satchel bag slung casually over his shoulder. At one point he pushed his hair back from his face and the small, familiar action made my heart twist and burn.

He never looked in my direction.

But everyone was looking in his. He still turns heads, of course. He looked like he'd just walked off a photo shoot for a glossy magazine and I realise now why he wasn't surprised that I knew his name when I called after him last Tuesday - every girl on campus probably knows his name.

I've spent hours on the internet researching repressed memories and motivated forgetting. I'm living in a constant state of nervous anticipation, my eyes scour the campus and the streets wherever I go, waiting to see him again, wondering if we'll get the chance to speak. I feel like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop.

_Let nature take its course._

I chew on my pencil and open my text book.

But what if nature says _no_?What if _Edward_ says no?

What if it was always my scent and my uniquely silent mind that attracted him, and without those things...I'm nothing?

It's not the first time this week I've had that thought, and like the other times it has trampled through my mind I push it away.

I think instead about tomorrow, and my first day at my new job. The money I saved from my job in Florida is running out fast and while I missed out on the bookshop job I really wanted, I've managed to get myself a place at a music store not far from the campus. The manager was impressed with my eclectic knowledge - from indie to classical. I can thank Edward for that - most of my music knowledge comes from him. And like that my mind is back to him again. I roll my eyes and force myself to concentrate on my assignment.

I check the time on my phone. Alex should have been here fifteen minutes ago.

I flick through the pages of my text book. Tudor England, the plague, religious reformation, King Henry VIII, Queen Elizabeth I. I turn to the chapter on Mary Queen of Scots and start making notes.

The chair opposite me moves.

"You're late," I whisper without looking up.

"I didn't know you were expecting me."

My pencil breaks as my head snaps up. Edward Cullen is smiling at me carefully, crookedly.

"Hello," he says. "You're looking much better than the last time I saw you."

**A/N: Thank you for reading. And thank you for all the lovely reviews, they make me smile and mean so much. Next chapter...as soon as I can, hopefully within a week.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.**

The stub of my broken pencil rolls across the desk and Edward's hand stops it before it falls off the edge. He picks it up and I watch his long, pale fingers as he sets it down near my books.

I know those fingers.

They've curled around mine. They've moved over my skin. They've massaged my neck and shoulders. They've played in my hair.

They've touched my lips.

I swallow and lift my gaze and stare straight into the most beautiful eyes I will ever see.

Brilliant, golden eyes that are polite, almost indifferent, and don't remember me.

My heart burns and twists. Oh, Edward...

I want to touch him, hug him. I want to tell him I love him, that I've missed him, missed him so much, but of course I can't. All I can do is stare, drinking him in, willing him to remember. I wonder briefly if this moment will be the start of something new, or the end of everything. I know I'm holding my breath but it hurts to breathe.

Memories burn behind my eyes and I blink hard against threatening tears. His pale hands are folded neatly on the desk in front of him now and he's smiling, but it's a guarded smile, the polite smile he reserves for humans when he doesn't want to make them nervous. No teeth.

But the smile begins to fade, his features shadow softly with a frown. He looks confused now, and uncertain, and I realise he's just told me I look better than the last time he saw me, and he's been waiting for me to say something.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I think that must have come out badly. I meant to say that you look well."

"Oh." At last I find my voice. Well, I make a sound, at least. I take a deep breath and focus._ Focus. _

If this is going to go anywhere I have to...focus.

I square my shoulders. My feet push and twist into the floor.

"So, are you feeling better?" he prompts.

"Er, yes. I'm good. Fine."

His smile is back. It's still polite and careful.

"We didn't really introduce ourselves properly the other day..." His words transport me back two years to a biology lab. "I'm Edward Cullen."

I nod. "I'm Bella Swan."

I search his face, his eyes, for something, anything, a flicker of recognition, or even curiosity...but there's nothing. I wonder if he'll offer me his hand, but he doesn't. His skin is too cold, of course.

My leg bounces nervously under the table while my hands sit deceptively still on my books. My palms are tingling.

"Oh, and thank you," I continue quickly. "For helping me. Alex told me you caught me when I fell."

"No problem."

He sits back in the chair. He holds my gaze for a second, then looks away. His face is relaxed, smooth. Impassive. I study him. His hair is all over the place, its rich bronze hanging over his forehead. The dark sweater is a snug fit under his jacket and hints at the muscular chest beneath. The tilt of his head, his cheekbones and jaw. His perfect lips. He looks just the same. It could be yesterday that he was holding my hand as we walked through the corridors of Forks High, whispering in my ear that he loved me.

"You must have been fast." My words come from nowhere, surprising even me, and his eyes dart back to me and suddenly I feel self-conscious under his cool gaze. "When you caught me..I...it's just, I saw you walk away, you were out of sight..."

"It was almost dark," he says smoothly. "Perhaps it just looked like I was out of sight."

He's brushing me off, I know that, and yet with the smile and the voice and the eyes I could easily accept his words, even though I know the truth.

"Well, thank you," I say again and he nods. Then he pushes back his chair but I don't want him to leave.

"Did you come here to find me?" I blurt and immediately my face turns red; I can't believe I just said that.

"I came to borrow a book," he smiles and for the first time I notice the volume of modern psychology on the desk by his elbow.

"Oh." My eyes travel to the loans desk near the door and he pushes the chair back a little further. He's really leaving.

"Um, wait...can I buy you a coffee sometime, to say thank you for helping me?"

I'm clutching at straws. Of course I know he doesn't drink coffee, but he doesn't know that I know that, and I've seen him work his way around coffee before...when he really wants to. Geez, he ate a bite of pizza for me once.

He smiles again. "You've already thanked me," he says gently as he stands and I know the conversation is over. If I pursue it any further I'm going to look creepy and desperate, or like Jessica Stanley - not a good start.

He slings his satchel across his shoulder just as Alex appears, red faced and breathless. I notice vaguely that his long hair is all over the place and he's tying it back with a rubber band.

"Sorry I'm late, I was... hi Edward, oh, am I interrupting something?" He looks from Edward to me.

"Not at all, I was just going," Edward smiles at Alex before turning back to me. "I'm glad you're feeling better."

My heart is pounding as I watch him turn and go and it occurs to me that I always seem to be watching Edward Cullen walk away from me.

"Car broke down," Alex's voice breaks into my thoughts. "Phone ran out of charge and I locked myself out of my apartment..." He blows out a breath, slumps into a chair and dumps his books on the desk. "But the day has to get better from here, right? Okay, I've been thinking about Henry the eighth..."

He leans back, swinging on his chair and his voice becomes background noise as I watch Edward. There's a problem at the loans desk. The computer is down and the flustered, apologetic librarian is trying to get it working as a queue forms. Edward is standing still, seemingly patient, but I can read his frustration - it's the way his fingers curl around the book he's holding. His finger taps slowly on its spine, marking his annoyance. It's something I've seen him do before, the finger tapping. It's a human gesture, one of several that he's carried with him into his vampire life. Another is pinching the bridge of his nose, but his frustration hasn't reached that level yet. He's staring straight ahead, then looks down at his book, flicking through the pages. The girl behind him speaks and he turns, gives her a polite smile and a nod, but nothing more. He looks at his book again and she beams at the back of his head.

"Hey, has that always been there?"

My eyes drift back to Alex. He's still swinging back on his chair, staring up at the ceiling now, and frowning. "It's huge, how have I not noticed it before?"

I look up for a moment at the University emblem, carved into the plaster of the library's high, white ceiling. Then my eyes move back to Edward.

"People don't look up," I murmur absently. Edward's head turns slightly now, I could almost think it's in my direction, and I wonder if it's in response to something I've said. But I've not said anything…at least, nothing worth reacting to.

I can hear Alex's voice and I look back at him, distracted. "Sorry, what?"

"I was asking what you meant? About looking up?"

"Oh, that… um, it's just an observation." I look down now, playing with the pencil stub that Edward has touched.

"And?"

"Well, just that people generally don't look up. If something's at eye level, or below, they'll see it, but they don't usually look up without reason, or without being directed to." I realised this in Florida when I worked in a gourmet deli. The prices were on a sign high above the counter but people still asked the cost. When I'd point them to the sign they were always surprised it was there. They never looked up.

But now my eyes and thoughts turn back to Edward. He has turned away slightly, I can't see his face properly but I could almost think he's smiling, the way his cheek is lifted just a little. I'm reminded of that day in the school cafeteria when I saw him for the first time. I wondered then what he was smiling about and I wonder again now. The girl behind him is grinning again, so maybe it was something she said. My heart sinks to the floor.

_Let nature take its course._

"We should probably get to work," I mumble and drop my eyes to my notes.

"Yeah," Alex sits properly in his chair and opens his book with a flourish. "Did I tell you I've decided Henry the eighth was a sociopath?"

-0-

I spend the rest of the day going from class to class, talking to people, smiling, acting like a normal person, but in my mind I go over the library conversation again and again and again. I analyse every word Edward said, every gesture he made, every facial expression, trying to find...something; a spark, some interest..._anything_. But I can't.

By the time I get home I feel like a volcano about to erupt and I crash through my front door, dump my bag on the sofa and sink to the floor, hugging my knees, and it takes every ounce of willpower not to let despair take over.

It's not like I'd expected him to see me and suddenly remember everything, I knew that wasn't going to happen, but his cool politeness, treating me like the stranger I am to him..it hurt more than I'd imagined.

I remember the first time he ever spoke to me, it was question after question, he wanted to know about my mom, Phil, Charlie, why I'd come to Forks, he even talked about the weather, but today...nothing.

Once more I wonder if I was nothing more to him than a powerful scent and a silent mind.

My eyes burn with tears and I look towards the window, watching dark clouds shift slowly across the grey sky and think how they mirror my mood.

Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe there is no future for me with Edward. Maybe it was only a really intense first love that was never meant to last past the summer.

Our perfect summer.

I remember his laugh, his smile, the way he'd hold my hand as we'd cross the street; the piggy back rides through the woods; the tender kisses in the meadow; the almost-warm nights curled up with him in my bed; the night he lay with his shirt open and I traced my name over his heart.

I shake my head. No, it wasn't just a first love.

It was everything.

_He_ was everything.

He still is.

He always will be.

I force myself to shift focus, I shove aside the fears and worries and think now of the positives; my bookmark that he kept, how he came back to catch me when I fainted, and even though he didn't come to the library to see me he still stopped and introduced himself and asked how I was feeling.

I stand up and open the window, breathing in the cool, fresh air. My head clears and I call Alice and fifteen minutes later she arrives at my door. It's only two days since she came over with a box of cookies Esme had baked for me and we watched a movie and deliberately didn't talk about her brother. Now her brother is the sole topic of conversation and she sits opposite me on my living room floor, listening patiently while I talk.

"I agree with you," she says firmly when I've finished. "The fact he came and spoke to you today is a good sign. He doesn't generally go around introducing himself; there must have been something that made him want to do that."

But what?

"It was so hard," I frown. "Pretending to be a stranger. I just wanted to hug him and tell him everything."

"Just give it a little time," Alice reaches over and takes my hand, her cool touch is comforting. "After all, he didn't forget you for nothing."

I wait a second for her words to make sense, but they don't. And I can see that she is just as confused by her statement as I am. She starts to giggle, rolls her eyes at herself and waves a delicate hand as if to dismiss her words.

"You know what I mean. If it was just a crazy first love he wouldn't have gone to all the trouble of repressing his memories of you. He would have just moved on." She smiles now. "There, that's what I meant. I think."

"He still might say no," I whisper. "He still might think it's too dangerous to be together, whether he remembers me or not. And that really scares me."

I rub the heels of my hands into my eyes. I can feel a headache starting.

"There's something else that scares me," I admit as I take my hands from my face and drop them into my lap. I look down as I twist my fingers, knowing Alice is waiting for me to explain. I glance up at her. "We can't go back to the way we were,"

She cocks her head in that vampire way and frowns. "I don't understand. Are you saying you feel differently about Edward now?"

"No, my feelings haven't changed, but I have." I drop my eyes again and pluck at the hem of my jeans. "Alice, Edward and I wanted different things and I never really thought of where our relationship would take us...I just kept asking him to change me and he kept saying no."

"But now?"

I sigh heavily and think of the last two years. "I went to Mexico with Angela Webber after senior year, before I moved to Florida. We were there for a week, and it was like the beginning of the road back for me."

Alice smiles.

"And last new years eve I was in New York with a couple of people from college. We came up from Florida, one of them was house sitting for a cousin and we stayed in Brooklyn for a week."

"And you enjoyed yourself?"

"Yeah," I give a soft laugh. "It was actually kind of great. I'm not usually a party person, as you know..." Alice rolls her eyes at me. "But being in Time Square, watching the ball drop at midnight, cheering with a million other people, seeing the sights and just being out in the world...I really liked it and that surprised me. That week was the best I'd felt in a long time."

"And you want more of those experiences and you think you won't have it with Edward?"

I shake my head. "It's not that. I want Edward more than anything, he's part of me, I'm not complete without him, but..." I try to think how to word this. "But things worked in Forks because the world didn't really intrude there."

"You mean apart from nomad vampires coming to town?" Alice says dryly and I roll my eyes.

"I mean Edward and I sort of existed in our own little bubble. We had school, we had each other, ...but we're not in Forks now. I'm not a school girl now. I love him, but I see now that I still have to be part of the world too, _especially_ if he won't change me." I keep plucking at my jeans, gathering my thoughts. "I've been thinking today, after I saw him in the library, that we were stuck in this cycle - him thinking he knew what was best for me and me fighting him on it; me nagging him to change me and him refusing; I never properly thought about what a real future with him would be like, I didn't want to admit there would difficulties, I didn't want to think of the practicalities... and there were other things..." I shrug and feel myself blush as I think of his refusal to have sex with me. "It got us nowhere...and I know the way we were then won't work now. We'd just go around in the same circles."

There's silence and I can feel Alice's eyes on me. When I look up she's smiling softly.

"You_ are_ different, but Edward's not the same person he was, either. It's like..." She pauses, searching for words. "It's like he knows that he has been happy, and he wants to find that happiness again. He just doesn't know where to look. Yet." She winks at me and a smile tugs at the corner of my mouth.

"He still might say no."

"He might. And the sun might go supernova tomorrow before lunchtime."

I gasp a laugh and Alice shakes her head, grinning at me. "I don't believe he'll let you go a second time, Bella"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. And Esme agrees with me."

I smile at the mention of Esme. I miss her. I miss them all. But I won't visit the Cullen home until Edward invites me.

"Did you give her my thank you note for the cookies?"

"I did."

"She understands why I won't visit, doesn't she?"

Alice nods. "She understands and she's looking forward to the day Edward brings you home again."

So am I.

I ask Alice if she can see anything of Edward's future. Or mine. But she shakes her head.

"Edward is all over the place these days, it's hard to get a clear vision of him. When the visions do come they're few and far between. Seeing him with you outside the library last week was the clearest one I've had for a long time. And it's the same with you...you're all over the place, too."

All over the place...yeah, that sounds like me right now.

"So, do you want me to tell you what he did this week?" Alice asks eagerly. And I'm tempted, really tempted; I want to know.

"Is it something I need to know?"

"No, nothing important. Just normal stuff. Do you want me to tell you? It might help with conversation next time you see him."

So tempting.

But I shake my head, no.

"I want to do this as naturally as possible, Alice. It would feel a bit stalkerish if I'm secretly following Edward's movements."

Alice scoffs and rolls her eyes. "Please, Bella...we're talking about the man that followed you around town behind your back and climbed through your bedroom window at night."

She has a point. But I think of the next time I see Edward and I know I'll feel uncomfortable if I've been getting inside information about him behind his back.

"Lets talk about something else," I suggest and Alice pouts, disappointed. But I need to move the conversation on now; my thoughts need to move on, because somehow, in amongst all this, I still have a life that I need to live.

I take a deep breath and shake myself a little. "Hey, I start my new job at The Drum tomorrow. Wanna help me choose what to wear?"

Before I've even blinked Alice has disappeared into my bedroom. I'm just getting to my feet as she calls out to me...

"Seriously Bella...ugg boots?"

-0-

The rain pounds on my roof all night and into the morning, but despite the vampire-friendly weather that lasts all day I see no sign of Edward at school. The only Cullen encounter I have is a text from Alice as I drive out of the college parking lot on my way to work at three o'clock. It's a smiley face and a good luck message for my new job. I text back a quick thank you as I pull up outside the store.

The Drum is a large music store. They sell instruments and sheet music as well as CD's and DVD's and they have a retro section for vinyl record albums. I'm nervous as I walk through the door but Ellen, the owner and manager, is warm and friendly, with a hearty laugh and voice that has smoked too many cigarettes. She welcomes me but is clearly happy to stay in the background - once she has introduced me to her team she disappears into the office behind the main counter and closes the door.

I'm rostered on for Wednesday and Thursday afternoons and all day Saturdays and I'm glad I'll be working with the same people each time - it makes life easier. My co-workers are an interesting bunch. They're all roughly my age, and it only takes me half a shift to understand that Alison is a control freak who thinks she's in charge, Scott couldn't be any more laid back if he was unconscious, and Amaranthe, with her long ink-black hair, dark flowing clothes and deathly white make-up is all about being moody and mysterious.

"She's a goth," Alison informs me in a conspiratorial whisper as she re-stacks the pile of CD's I've already arranged on the counter. "Don't be put off by her, she's actually really nice once you get to know her. Um, I always stick the price tags in the top right corner."

We both look down at the pile of CDs. I've stuck the price tags halfway down the left side where they won't obscure anything of the title or the artist's name. I wonder if Alison is just commenting or if this is a veiled directive for the future.

"I just thought they didn't cover anything up if I put them on the left."

"Mm," she says, considering this. "Maybe. Oh…!" She turns quickly as a jarring melody comes from the instrument showroom. "Someone's touching the electric organs!" She adjusts her auburn ponytail like a soldier might adjust his helmet, and she goes off to do battle. A second later I hear the strains of Purple Haze come to an abrupt halt, just as Scott joins me at the counter.

"I stick the price tags right in the middle, just to annoy her," he says, grinning, eyes twinkling, and I can't help grinning back. He has one of those friendly faces that just makes you smile. "Come on," he waves me over to the computer at the other end of the counter. "I'll show you my secret short cut for processing pre-orders. Just don't tell Alison."

The afternoon passes quickly. The store is busy and I sell about a dozen CD's, a couple of records and a harmonica. Amaranth wafts around, helping some customers, startling others. She says little and smiles less but is very helpful when I need to find guitar picks with a high friction coating.

Alison and I rearrange the window display. Well, I hand props to Alison and she puts them where she wants them, but gradually the Elvis tribute is replaced with posters and hanging CD cases for Linkin Park's latest album.

By the time we close at seven o'clock I'm exhausted. Ellen congratulates me on a successful first day and jokingly asks if I've been scared off yet. I smile and tell her I'll be back and as I wave goodnight and head out the door towards my truck I wonder if The Drum is the sort of music store that Edward might visit.

-0-

There's no sign of Edward on Thursday. Or Friday.

I go to classes, I write my notes - my eyes scour the grounds and the hallways.

I serve customers at The Drum and place orders and look up every time the shop door opens, but it's never him

On Friday night I go to a movie with a small group from my English lit class. As we stand outside the theatre, trying to decide between the comedy and the action thriller, a silver Volvo streaks past. My eyes follow it, watching it stop at a red light a little further down the street, and I wonder...

Then I realise that I don't even know what car Edward drives now. Are they always silver? I don't know. Actually, there's _so much_ I don't know.

I throw another look in the direction of the silver car. Then the traffic light turns green and it drives away as I turn and walk into the theatre.

-0-

Saturday dawns with brilliant sunshine and I know there's no point even looking for Edward today.

As the sun's rays pour through my windows I dress and eat breakfast and get to the store in time for nine o'clock opening.

Amaranthe is yawning as she stows her oversized bag beneath the counter. Scott is stretching and scratching at his head as he starts up the computers. Alison is bright and perky as she flips the closed sign to open. Ellen doesn't come in on Saturdays.

It's quiet, business is slow to start and while the shop is empty we spend the time talking and Scott does a coffee run to the café across the street. I notice that today Amaranthe's finger nails are the most vivid purple I've ever seen, it's a small explosion of colour against the black of her clothes...along with the red laces in her Doc Marten boots.

Alison puts a pile of flyers on the counter. They're advertising a Halloween party at a nightclub called Jinx. Scott folds one into an airplane and sends it flying...right into the face of our first customer as she walks through the door.

"Oh, geez, I'm sorry, ma'am..." he hurries over and makes amends while Amaranthe and I stifle smiles and Alison scowls.

Business picks up and by eleven o'clock there is a queue of customers and Amaranthe and I are working both registers.

"It's for my mom," the young guy explains as he hands me _Abba's Greatest Hits_. "Birthday present," he adds.

As I scan the barcode I smile, not just because of his comment, but because he's the last in the queue and things are calming down a little now. Amaranthe has disappeared into the stock room now. "Moms like Abba, don't they?" the young guy asks me suddenly and he sounds a little worried.

"Oh, well, I guess that depends on the mom."

"Does yours like Abba?"

I think of Renee, dancing around the living room to_ Waterloo_ and crooning along with _Fernando... "__Come on, Bella, join in!"_

"Um, actually, yeah, my mom does like Abba. But if you're not sure, why don't you bring your mom in to choose for herself? She'd probably like spending the time with you and she could choose whatever she liked."

He thinks about this for a moment and then grins at me.

"Yeah, yeah...thanks!" He hurries out the door and I'm smiling as I cancel the sale in the system.

"Hello."

My fingers jerk on the on the keyboard and I drop Abba on the floor. I look up and Edward Cullen is standing at the counter, right in front of me. His hair is a rumpled mess, hanging low over his forehead into his eyes and I know he must have been pulling his fingers through it just seconds before. His eyes are darker today and he's not quite smiling as he sets a pile of CDs on the counter. And the first thing I think is how can he be here when it's sunny outside, but a quick glance out the windows reveals a change from blue skies to grey.

"I didn't know you worked here."

"I just started on Wednesday," I explain.

He nods but says nothing while I stare at him and a second later his eyes drop to the CDs and that small gesture brings me out of myself.

"Um, you're buying these?" I almost, _almost,_ roll my eyes at myself. Of course he's buying them.

"Yes, please." He's not quite smiling as he answers.

I nod and lift the first CD from the pile.

Edward pulls his wallet from his back pocket as I scan the jazz compilation by an artist I don't know. His wallet is different from the one I remember, but the credit card he takes out is the same – sleek and silver with a transparent diagonal strip across the corner. In my time working at Newtons, and at the deli in Jacksonville, and even my few days here at The Drum, I've never seen another credit card like it. He holds it between his fingers as I keep scanning, desperately trying to think of something to say…something clever or witty that might spark his interest. Relax, I tell myself. Let nature take its course. But before I can think of anything to say, Edward speaks, startling me.

"Do you like working here?"

"Oh...um, yeah, it's good. I like it."

"Even when they play _The Monster Mash_ through the speakers?"

He's smirking softly and I notice now that _The Monster Mash_ is in fact being piped through the store. Probably Alison's idea, getting into the Halloween spirit.

"Um, yeah, even then," I smile. Our eyes hold for a second. I try to think of something else to say, but the conversation stalls as Edward rests his credit card on the counter, shoves his hands in his pockets and looks out now towards the street.

I keep scanning.

There are fourteen CDs in all and I try to go slowly, stretching the time, waiting for conversational inspiration to strike. And it frustrates me. We used to talk all the time, but now...

Some of the titles he's buying surprise me. The two classical recordings I understand, the three new indie releases I get, and the jazz of course, but the others… polka music? A couple of country and western albums? He hates country and western. Well, he used to hate it.

"You have a really interesting mix of music here," I say, mentally high-fiving myself as inspiration finally strikes. "You must have a wide taste in music."

Edward looks down, frowning, and confusion crosses his face. He lifts his face and he looks almost...embarrassed? Really?

He pulls his hand through his hair and shrugs.

"They're for my mom."

His answer throws me, but as he smiles a little wider I realise he's referring to the previous customer. He obviously overheard.

I start laughing. "Do you want me to throw in some Abba, then?" I hold up the greatest hits CD and he smiles properly now, a full, brilliantly crooked Edward Cullen smile. But even though he's smiling at me, there's still nothing more than friendly politeness in his eyes.

"I think I'll pass," he says.

I smile back, pleased with our banter, and try to think of what to say next as I wonder about the real reason behind the rogue CD's.

I put Abba back down and shift a Glenn Campbell CD aside, ready to scan the next in the pile, and I find another surprise.

"Oh..." I smile.

"You know _The Chimes_?" Edward sounds surprised as I nod.

When Edward left I couldn't listen to music anymore. Every song was just a reminder, not that I needed reminding. When I did start listening again I looked for new artists and different sounds, music as far removed from Edward, and Forks, as possible...and that led me to _The Chimes_. The female trio from Scotland, with their beautiful, a capella voices, was a great re-introduction to music.

"I have this album," I say, looking up and at last I see a flicker of something in Edward's eyes, in his face. His gaze holds mine and I'm thrown for a second as I try to fathom his expression, but then suddenly it's gone and his eyes are so politely neutral again that I wonder if I imagined it. "Um, track four, _Burning_, is amazing." I finally say.

His eyes drop to the CD. "I'll listen out for it," he murmurs. He shoves his hands back in his pockets and stares down at the floor. Through his hair that hangs over his face now I can just make out that he's frowning and I wonder why.

I scan the last CD's.

"Um, that's one hundred and seventy three dollars, please."

He pushes the credit card across the counter and my fingers tremble as I swipe it through the machine. I hand him the slip. "We need a signature for transactions over a hundred dollars."

He nods and signs his name in his perfect, elegant script…

_E. Cullen_

I put the CDs in a bag and hand it to him and while things don't exactly feel tense, the friendly ease of a few minutes ago has gone. I can't work out why and I know I'll be replaying this conversation over and over again.

"Thank you," he says, taking the bag.

"Would you like a flyer?" I hold one out to him, knowing he'll say no, but I'm just looking for more interaction. "It's a Halloween party…. "

He shakes his head and there's just a hint of a smile on his lips.

He turns and starts to walk away, but near the door he stops.

"Was there something else?" I ask, hopefully.

He looks at me, his eyes polite and mild, and then he smiles and shakes his head.

"No, nothing."

-oo0oo-

**A/N: Stay with me...don't let Edward's parting words get you down :)**

**Sorry this chapter took a while. Next chapter is already written, just needs a bit of tweaking here and there and I hope to have it up in a couple of days. Promise.**

**Thank you all so much for reading and for your lovely reviews. I'm slowly getting through responses, but if I haven't replied to yours yet, please know I read them all and appreciate them so very much :)**

**My beta, Edward's Eternal, has another story up. It's called Awaken and features a very different Edward - take a look.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.**

For six days there is no sign of Edward. Not at school. Not at The Drum.

I try to be patient.

And in the meantime, while I wait for him to make an appearance, I live my life and try not to dwell on the last words he said to me after he bought his CDs and walked out of the store.

I study.

I work.

I go with friends to find Halloween costumes for parties I've been invited to but don't want to attend.

On day seven I cave and call Alice. She tells me Edward went hunting for a couple of days but has otherwise been at school...except for the two sunny days in the middle of the week. When I tell her I haven't seen him she reminds me that I had been at college here for six weeks before I saw him the first time.

I wonder if he's avoiding me.

I worry.

And I wait.

I let nature take its course and just hope that nature and I are on the same page.

oo

Ten days after our awkward encounter at The Drum, I find Edward. Or maybe Edward finds me.

It's Tuesday again and as I walk into the library for another study session with Alex I see my bronze haired vampire. He's sitting at the desk where Alex and I usually work and I feel like the world has disappeared and there's only me, and Edward, and the five or six yards that lies between us.

He's watching me as I make my way towards him in what feels like slow motion. Edward's lips curve slowly into a soft, slightly wary smile. His amber eyes are different today, they're cautious and guarded, but no longer indifferent as he lifts his hand in a gesture of hello.

My heart swells and I smile back and wonder if he's been waiting for me. Suddenly I feel encouraged, the worries and doubts of the past ten days seem a little less, but only a little, because I still have no idea where this is going.

_Don't get too excited,_ I tell myself. _He mightn't be waiting for you. He's just sitting at a desk in the library, that's all. He has his books out, he's probably just here to study_.

"Hi, Edward." I pull out a chair opposite him.

"Hello, Bella."

I try to stay cool as I take a book and my notes from my bag and set them on the desk in front of me. From under my lashes I see him watching. I can feel his eyes following my every movement, studying what I do, but he stays silent. He rocks his pen back and forth between his fingers in an absent sort of way.

I spread out my notes.

"How's the music?" I ask him, taking my time before I glance up. "Have you listened to all those CD's yet?" Miraculously, I sound much more casual than I feel and I congratulate myself on finding a good conversation opener so quickly. But beneath the desk my leg is bouncing so hard I'm surprised the whole desk isn't vibrating. It's a second or two before Edward answers.

"Er, yes," he says, almost vaguely. "Well, I've listened to some of them, anyway." He says nothing more, but his eyes are still on me. Right now I would give just about anything to know what he's thinking. He turns away now, looking towards the notice board on the wall under the high windows.

I reach into my bag for a pencil. I know he can hear my heart racing and pounding in my chest and I wonder what he makes of that. And I wonder what he's made of it in the past when he's no doubt heard it shatter and break. What does it sound like then?

"You were right about The Chimes," he says suddenly and when I look up I find myself staring straight into his eyes and I can almost feel myself drowning in them. Drowning in honey, I think idly. "Track four is very good."

I nod, dumbly. "Um...yeah." And I take a quick breath. "The harmonies on that one are so, er..." Suddenly I'm stumped for a description.

"Beautiful?" Edward suggests, eyes interested, questioning. It's so good to see something more than mild politeness, even if it's not memories.

"I was going to say transcendent."

His eyebrows lift, just slightly, and then a small smile tugs at his lips. He nods and looks down at his notes and I look down at mine. A soft silence falls between us and belies the small seed of excitement that is growing inside me.

"_A capella_ groups don't have such a big following in the college music market," Edward says softly after a moment. "It's a surprise to find someone else who liked that type of music." His words are casual enough and when I look up he still seems focused on his notes, his eyes cast down, but there's a shadow of a frown over his face now. It's almost as if he was thinking out loud, except that when I don't respond he lifts his eyes and looks at me through his lashes. My skin tingles under his gaze.

"Well, there are at least two of us," I murmur, and follow it with a shrug.

I don't know what I've said, but for a fleeting second he looks lost and I want so badly to hug him. I try to keep a neutral face and he recovers himself very quickly before looking down at his notes again.

And another silence falls.

I don't even bother to try and work on my assignment. I know it's impossible with Edward just opposite me. So I sit and wonder what to say next. I flip over a page of my text book, just for appearances, and start copying down the words without knowing what they are. I think my leg has bounced a hole through the floor.

"Tudor England?"

He's speaking again, his expression is clear and open now when I look up and it occurs to me that maybe he's trying to make conversation too. The thought is very welcome. He has set his pen down and his hands are folded elegantly on the desk in front of him.

"Yeah, Alex and I are working on an assignment together. Right now he's trying to convince me that Henry the eighth was a sociopath."

Edward's eyebrows inch up a little.

"And you don't agree?"

I shrug and shift in my seat. "It's not that I don't agree, I just don't think it's that simple."

"What's not so simple?" He cocks his head, his eyes are curious again. He really wants to talk about Henry the eighth? Okay.

"Well, you have to look at the times Henry lived in," I begin and start ticking things off my fingers. "There's the fact that as monarch he had absolute power, and that power was supposed to be God-given. And then you have to look at the laws in existence, the beliefs people held, and the superstitions. Plus there were plenty of people waiting for any opportunity to take the throne, so Henry had to protect himself. And there was the need to produce a male heir, and forge ties with other nations..." I stop.

"You've run out of fingers," Edward smiles.

"Yeah, I have." I smile back and fold my hands in front of me on the desk, mirroring Edward's pose, but my nails are chipped and chewed and I tuck them under. "I'm not saying he wasn't a sociopath," I finish off, "I just think there's a lot more to it than that."

"Interesting," Edward murmurs softly and I wonder if he means me, or what I've said, or the scribble on the desk top that his finger is tracing over right now. I feel like yelling..._What? What? What is interesting?_ He looks up and away towards the book stacks and there is silence again.

This is exhausting. And draining. I fight the urge to wipe imaginary sweat from my brow.

I don't want the conversation to stall, but what do I talk about now? Maybe I could mention the rain that has started pounding on the windows.

"Um, so it looks like…"

Edward looks at me directly but I get no further in my quest to discuss the weather because we're interrupted. Alex sits down next to me and a girl pulls out the seat two along from Edward, leaving a space between them. She looks at him shyly. Immediately I stiffen. There's a flicker of resignation on Edward's face and he gives her a polite almost-smile.

"Hello Ellie," he says and I'm glad there's no real tone to his voice.

Ellie giggles and starts a conversation with him about a psychology assignment – she's obviously in one of his classes. In the meantime Alex is trying to talk to me about Tudor England but my focus is on Edward as Ellie chats away about sample groups and ink blot tests and I hear her ask Edward if he's found his three 'victims' yet.

"I have two," he says mildly, glancing across at me as Alex tugs on my sleeve.

"Bella, are you listening to anything I'm saying?" he asks.

"Yes, sorry. The rise of the house of Tudor…"

"Actually, Bella has some interesting ideas about King Henry," Edward breaks in suddenly. "We were just talking about him."

Ellie scowls at me, obviously putting two and two together and realising I'm Bella.

"Yeah? What ideas?" Alex looks at me. "Oh, is this your 'look at the whole picture' theory?" He shakes his head. "Bella, the guy was nuts...simple."

We start a half-hearted debate and I can feel Edward's eyes on me while Ellie tries to get his attention back.

"You could always ask me to be your third victim," she giggles.

"It can't be someone from the class," Edward answers without taking his eyes from me.

"I know that, but Dr Drummond doesn't have to know it's me." From the corner of my eye I watch her lean over and, very hesitantly, go to touch his arm. My stomach churns but Edward shifts, moving his arm smoothly out of her way before she makes contact. It's such a subtle move it almost seems it hasn't happened. Ellie blinks a little and withdraws her fingers. I try to focus again on Alex as Ellie wants to know who Edward is going to ask, then.

"Actually, I was thinking of asking Bella."

I look up sharply, straight into his eyes. He's frowning, his mouth slightly open, and I get the feeling he's just as surprised by his words as I am.

"Oh," Ellie arches an eyebrow at me. Edward runs his hand through his hair and looks away.

I look down at my book and I can feel my skin tingling. There's silence at the table, a strange sort of tension has descended, an electricity and the air almost crackles with it. I wonder if Edward feels it too. Ellie gathers her things and makes a great show of leaving.. Alex suddenly decides to go look for another book. My stomach is in knots and my feet are pushing into the carpet.

I start doodling on the corner of my notepad, a swirly spiral that goes round and round and round...

"Will you?" Edward's voice comes softly across the desk. I look up and his face is so unsure, so confused as he looks at me. But he gives me a shy smile and a nervous laugh. "Will you be my third victim? Please?"

I smile back. "How can a girl say no to an invitation like that?"

A fleeting look of relief passes over his features and he chuckles softly. He runs his hand through his hair again and I watch the movement of his throat as he swallows hard. Venom pooling, perhaps. Or maybe just nerves. I wonder which it is. And why.

"What would I have to do?" I ask.

He shifts a little in his seat as he begins to outline the assignment for his Psychology Assessment course.

"I need to interview three people," he explains. "Well, interview is probably the wrong word. I just need to ask for their responses to certain pictures and words. I won't actually analyse anything, it's just an exercise to demonstrate how certain tests are delivered, and to show how individuals can look at the same image, or hear the same word, and think of different things." He takes a slow breath. "Do you think it's something you'd be interested in? It would only take half an hour."

"I think I'd be interested in that," I smile. My heart is running around in my chest, looking for something to high-five. When it finds nothing it decides to bounce off my ribs instead. "So, where and when?"

He pulls his hand through his hair again, his long fingers tangling in the silky bronze and it's clear he hasn't thought that far ahead. And this is new territory for him, interacting so closely with a human. At least, he thinks it's new territory.

"How about tomorrow?" he asks. "We could meet here, I suppose." He frowns and looks around.

"Is there a problem with here?"

"The assignment is supposed to be confidential. This feels a bit public, but I could book one of the quiet rooms."

"Or, I'm not working this afternoon, maybe you could come to my place. I don't live far."

My heart is about to break a rib, it's hammering so hard. I've just asked him to my apartment! Suddenly I can't breathe.

"I don't know…" he says slowly and frowning slightly.

I look down, embarrassed now. I've pushed too far. And if I'm honest, if he'd been anyone else I probably wouldn't have invited him home so easily. I go back to my doodling.

"Alright, if you don't mind then I could come over this afternoon."

My surprise is obvious when I look up and when he sees my face I can tell he's about to change his mind but I don't give him a chance to say anything. Instead I tear off a piece of notepaper and write out my address. We agree on a time and we exchange cell phone numbers _just in case._ Then he picks up his satchel and slings it over his shoulder.

"You're going?"

He nods. "There are some things I need to do. And I should let you and Alex get on with Henry." He gives me a small smile. "So, I'll see you this afternoon at five?" And suddenly he looks unsure again. "If you change your mind it's okay."

"I won't change my mind."

He nods and walks away as Alex returns and I wonder how I'm going to concentrate on possibly sociopathic monarchs now!

-0-

My thumb nail is chewed way down. It's a habit I started after Edward left and it's something I really should stop. I stop biting and look at the clock again; it's four fifty seven. The apartment is tidy, the novelty hotdog slippers Renee sent me are tucked away, out of sight, under my bed, and I've deliberately not contacted Alice. I want to do this on my own...I want to let nature take its course, wherever it might lead me.

It's getting darker outside, heavy black clouds are blanketing the sky and there's a very distant rumble of thunder.

There's a knock at the door and I jump. Five o'clock, he's exactly on time and I take a deep, slow breath before I answer the door.

"Hi," I say and stand back, holding the door open as he says hello and walks in, hands in his front pockets, satchel slung over his shoulder. He's here. Edward is here in my apartment. All the times I've wished for this…

He looks around and here in my living room he seems even taller, I don't know why. His hair is a mess, windblown from the weather I guess. It's studded with raindrops, they glisten like tiny diamonds among the strands and I want to sweep my hand over them, wiping them away like I would have done once before, but can't now. I'm surprised when he gives his head a shake, spraying me with them.

"Oh!" I giggle and step back.

"Sorry," he says quickly as he realises and he smooths his hand over his head, soaking up what's left. He gives me a sheepish smile. "I didn't think," and this fact clearly bothers him, it shows in his face.

I tell him not to worry about it and he nods and turns to look around some more.

His eyes scan my bookshelves and they find something there that makes him smile - I wonder what it is. Some of the books he has seen before, even if he doesn't remember. Others are new. Then he turns to me, his face smooth, unreadable.

"Thank you for helping me with this," he says.

"No problem. Um, so, where do you want to do this?"

I think I'm waving my arm elegantly at the space around us but I suspect it looks more like I'm flapping a wing. And really, I don't know why I'm asking 'where' because apart from my bedroom and the bathroom, this is the only space.

"Here is fine," he says. "May I sit?"

"Sure, yeah, um, just sit wherever." I make another vague wave, or flap, towards the sofa and Edward smiles, but he settles himself instead into the rocking chair and I'm taken back to my bedroom in Forks, and waking up that first morning after the meadow and seeing him sitting there. My throat tightens, there's a pricking at my eyes.

"Um, can I get you something? Soda, coffee...?" It would be normal to offer, right?

"No, I'm fine, thank you."

He takes the satchel from his shoulder and pulls a folder from inside. Then he lets the satchel drop to the floor. He hasn't closed the flap and the soft leather bag sags open and I can just make out my bookmark tucked into the pocket in the lining. Edward looks up at me expectantly and suddenly I realise I should sit, too. I move to the sofa.

Edward's eyes make another fast, discreet sweep of the room. Most humans wouldn't even be aware he's doing it this time, but I am. Against the wall beside the rocking chair are the small shelves that hold my CDs and I know he's reading the titles on their spines. I don't have quite enough CDs to fill all three shelves and when I see him trying not to smile I know he's spied the souvenir I use to hold the end one in place.

"You like snow globes?"

I feel a blush creeping over my skin. "I know it's dorky and they're kitschy, but yeah, I kind of do. I keep it very quiet though, you can't tell anyone."

He chuckles a little at my remark and reaches out very gently to touch the plastic dome with the little green cactus in it. He gives the tiniest push and the glitter stirs from where it lays at the bottom. I never had it on display in Forks, this is the first time he's seen it.

"Do you have others?" he asks.

"No. Just that one."

"Phoenix doesn't strike me as a snowy kind of place." He picks the dome up now and tips it over and the silver specks spiral and swirl.

"I grew up in Phoenix, you're right, it's not very snowy," I give a sort of laugh and Edward smiles, but his eyes stay on the globe. "I think of it more as a glitter dome."

He nods.

"I had one of these when I was a boy," he says quietly, almost to himself and his words surprise me as he tips the globe and watches the glitter fall again. "It was from the Lincoln Park Zoo in Chicago. I think it had a tiger in it."

The smile stretches wide across my face. He so rarely spoke about his human time when I knew him before. His memories were few and faded, he told me. I take this small, new piece of information and treasure it.

"Do you still have it?" I ask.

"It's in a box somewhere." And he sets the snow globe back in place and opens the folder in his lap.

"Are you ready?" he asks. It's a sharp change of direction and makes me remember what it is like to keep up with him. When I nod he becomes all business. "Okay, this is an exercise for my Psychology Assessment course. We're learning the basic principles behind assessment tests like the Rorschach Inkblot Test, are you familiar with that test at all?"

"Only from movies and television."

"Same sort of idea," he smiles. "I'll just show you some cards with ink blots on them, you tell me what you see in the shapes. There are no right or wrong answers. I won't be recording your name, and this is all confidential. Are you happy to go ahead?"

I nod and we begin.

It's just like in the movies and I see a rabbit, an old man in a hat, a cabbage...

Edward's expression never changes and he doesn't speak, he simply holds up card after card and makes notes on the pad he has balanced on his knee while I sit perched on the edge of the sofa.

"Wing nut."

Edward looks up at me blinking. Then he looks down at the print.

"What?" I ask.

"Nothing," he says quickly, staring at the black splattered against the white before turning back to me. "Most people say butterfly."

I smirk a little. "I'm not most people."

"No," he murmurs, frowning at the wing nut. "I think I'm beginning to see that."

A small thrill runs through me at his words and I wonder how much hope I should take from them. Or if I should take any.

"So, what do you see?" I ask and he looks just a little sheepish.

"A butterfly."

"How unoriginal," I roll my eyes in mock contempt and he chuckles.

The mood relaxes and I sink deeper into the sofa. Edward puts the cards down on the floor and sits further back in the rocking chair. He crosses one leg over the other at right angles.

"No more wing nuts?" I ask.

"Not right now. Are you ready for some word association?"

Oh...

"Okay, I think so."

He grabs his satchel and pulls out another folder. He looks up at me, eyes staring directly into mine. "Same rules as before, I won't be recording your name and this is confidential. I'll say a word, you say the first thing that comes into your head."

"Got it."

"Are you happy to go ahead?"

"Yes."

"Sun."

Oh, we've started….

"Er, moon."

He nods.

"Bird."

"Cat."

I see the faintest lift of an eyebrow as he makes notes on his paper.

"Fur," he says, without looking up.

"Coat."

"Happy."

"Sad."

"Mother."

"Eccentric."

He stops and looks up at me.

"Really?"

"Is...is that one of the words, or are you...?"

"Sorry, no, I just...is your mother eccentric?"

I sigh and scrunch up my nose.

"I don't know, I've never really...actually she might be. She's not your average mother, I know that."

He leans forward slightly, his face curious now. "Will you tell me?"

"Are you asking me about me about my relationship with my mother, Dr Freud?"

He laughs and sits back. "No...it's just an interesting response, that's all. You don't have to tell me."

"I don't mind," I smile and begin to tell him about Renee, just like I did in his Volvo on the way home from school two and a half years ago. I talk, I make vague mention of the divorce and Phil and how I spent some time with my dad. Edward asks some questions. When I'm done he's frowning, the confused look is back.

"Do you always call her by her first name?" he wants to know.

"Not when I'm talking to her. Then I call her Mom."

"Is that because you really think of yourself in the caretaker role, and she is like the child?"

"I thought you weren't analysing me?"

"Sorry," he says quickly and sits back. "Actually, I'm not, I really was just curious."

"It's okay, I'm just teasing." I don't mention that his curiosity has made me all sorts of happy.

He relaxes a little when I smile. "I've never really thought about it but I guess you're right, that probably is why I call her Renee."

"What do you call your father?"

Suddenly I'm on alert. Edward knows Charlie, he probably remembers him from before I arrived in Forks.

"Dad."

Edward nods and looks back at his notes. He pulls a hand through his hair.

"Er, shall we keep going?"

"Sure."

"Rainbow."

I have to think for a second. "Um, mm...sky?"

He nods. "Just say whatever you think of first. Friend..."

"Jacob."

"Home."

"Heart."

He makes more notes.

"Christmas."

"Tree."

"Birthday."

"Gone."

His head snaps up. My heart seizes. I feel the colour drain from my face as Edward stares at me, his face a picture of confusion.

"Most people say party, or cake," he says softly.

I swallow down the feeling of dread that always comes when I think of my birthday. And the feeling of panic.

"I thought you said there were no right or wrong answers."

"Of course," Edward says, his eyes darting quickly between mine. "It's just an unusual answer. Like before."

And I can't help it, I just can't help it...having him here, the memory of my birthday, what happened to him afterwards, and to me...I feel the tears burning and I know he can smell them, no matter how hard I blink them back.

"Bella?"

I wave him away as I stand up and grab the tissue box from the kitchen counter. My back is to him but I hear the creak of the rocking chair and I know he's standing now. Though I don't hear him take a step I even know when he moves closer, I can _feel_ him.

"I've _upset_ you." His voice is horrified. "I'm so sorry…"

I shake my head, keeping my back to him.

"I didn't mean to upset you…" Now I'm taken aback slightly by the pain in his voice.

"I know you didn't. It's okay," I try to reassure him, but it's kind of hard without looking at him but right at this second I don't know if I can.

There's silence but Edward's tension, his confusion and almost-panic, are palpable and I realise I'll have to give him some sort of explanation. . I sigh and take a couple of slow breaths as I turn around to face him. He has one hand is in his hair, but the other is extended, as if he was reaching out to touch me, but he withdraws it quickly. His jaw is set hard and I know his teeth are clenched tight. His eyes are dark with concern and he looks utterly lost and completely bewildered and totally out of his depth.

"I'm sorry," he mouths.

There's something blazing in his eyes, something new, something I can't fathom. But I feel a shift, somewhere deep inside me, and the ache that has lived in my heart for two years changes. It is for him now, not me.

Fortunately, somehow, my eyes stay dry. And as I stare at him in his distress, I realise the only way for me now is forward. The disastrous birthday was more than two years ago, it's holding me back and I have to let it go. If I'm going to have a future with Edward, or any future at all, I have to let it go.

I swallow hard and say the words.

"Something...awful...happened on my birthday a couple of years ago. It messed me up for a while and I haven't celebrated a birthday since...but I'm getting over it."

"I'm so sorry," he whispers and there's something like pain in his eyes…I can't quite read it. His hand at his side clenches slowly into a fist. "I'm so sorry, Bella. I didn't know..."

His words crash through me like a runaway train. _Yes, you did know...you _do_ know. You know. You were there._ But I pull myself together...let it go, Bella. Focus on the future.

"S'okay." I give him a shaky smile as I take another slow breath and sit back down on the sofa. "It was a long time ago. Let's keep going. I'm fine."

I smile again to prove my point and Edward slowly lowers himself into the rocking chair, watching me carefully.

"I think we've done enough." His voice is low and soft. I know that voice and I know what it means; it means he won't be argued with. My heart sinks because I know what will happen now – he will pack up and leave.

"I'm okay, really."

"We've finished, anyway. There was only one word left."

He starts to gather up his papers.

"What word was it?" I want to know, but he shakes his head. A small ripple of frustration runs through me. He always did this, treated me like he knew best. "Edward, I'm not a kid. If I tell you I'm alright now then I really am alright now." I keep my voice low and steady and calm and I realise it's very different from the almost frantic, desperate tone I would use when I knew him before, even if the words are much the same.

There's surprise in his eyes when he looks up and blinks at me. I hold his gaze evenly.

"Chocolate," he says.

"Cake."

He gives me a small smile then lowers his head again as he continues to pack up. I watch him, watch his hands, such beautiful hands, as they smoothly guide the papers into their folder, the ink blots into their envelope, and then everything into the satchel.

He's decided. He's going. I can feel defeat washing over me; will it always be like this, whether it's today, or eighty years from today? I look away to the window and listen to the thunder rumble and watch the rain spatter on the glass.

"Would you like to hear a joke?"

His question knocks the breath right out of me. I turn back to him quickly and he's looking at me as he sets the satchel on the floor and sits back in the chair. He rests his right leg at an angle across the left and grips his ankle with both hands. His eyes are still concerned, and very, very unsure, but he's giving me a crooked, hopeful sort of smile.

He's not going.

"A…a joke?" I stammer.

He nods, almost eagerly, eyes wide and I nearly laugh with happiness…and astonishment. I don't think he could have said anything more surprising to me - he's never told me jokes before.

"Um, okay. Sure."

His face becomes serious now and I wonder what sort of joke it will be. He leans back a little more and lifts an eyebrow.

"How many psychologists does it take to change a light bulb?"

I giggle without even knowing the punch line and though I wonder how the mood could have shifted so quickly, I'm just so glad that it has.

"I don't know. How many?"

Edward holds up a single finger, that eyebrow lifts a little higher. "Just one. But the lightbulb must want to change."

It's a terrible joke but suddenly I'm laughing and so is he. In fact he sounds almost relieved. And I feel so much better as the laughter rolls through me.

"That's better," he says softly, "I like to see you smile. And laugh."

His words catch me off guard and I drop my eyes, face flushing, as my laughter trails off to a soft giggle. When I look up again he's staring at me with a new intensity that makes my blood sing and my heart soar and our eyes lock for a second before he looks away, almost as though it's too much. There's a moment of silence and I can feel that electricity again, that crackle in the air.

"Okay, I have one for you," I say, wanting to keep this going, and it's his turn to look surprised.

"Oh? Go on, then."

"What do you call a deer with no eyes?"

He smirks and makes a great show of considering his answer. "Mm..I have _no idea_."

My eyes narrow and I glare at him. He's taken my punch line – no idea, _no eye deer._ I pick up the small blue scatter cushion beside me and throw it at him as he laughs. Of course he catches it smoothly.

"You stole my joke!"

"Why do you say that? I might seriously have _no idea_." He grins, emphasising the words.

"Yeah right, Edward."

"Will you tell me another one, then? I promise I won't know the answer."

I snort. "How can you promise that?"

"I just can." And he tosses the cushion back to me. It lands gently, right in the middle of my lap.

"More?" he whispers, smiling, head tilted to his shoulder, and I'm momentarily dazzled.

"Um, I...I can't think of any."

"Okay, knock knock," he says, surprising me again. A knock knock joke? Edward? Really?

"Um, who's there?"

"Interuppting cow."

"Interrup..."

"Moooo!" he cuts in suddenly, loudly, interrupting me, and despite the awfulness of the joke I'm laughing really hard. It's actually kind of funny. And hearing Edward Cullen tell it is even funnier. I chuck the pillow back at him.

"You interrupting cow," I tease between giggles.

"Moo," he grins.

He tells me another knock knock joke, and I remember a couple of bad one liners from Jake, and the two of us are giggling so much we can hardly speak. I've never seen him like this before, never heard him tell jokes...and I like it. I like it a lot.

"Where do you get these?" I giggle after he's subjected me to a ridiculous story of a man with a parrot stuck to his shoulder.

"My brother mostly. He likes to tell jokes. The cornier the better."

"So, do you torture many people this way?" I grin and he shakes his head, grinning back at me.

"Er, actually...only you," he says and there's just a flash of confusion in his eyes as I give myself a mental hug - he only jokes with me. I decide that has to be a good thing.

But as I'm giving myself that hug Edward stands up slowly and gathers up his satchel.

"Oh, you're going?" I stand up too.

"I think I should," he says. "It's getting late."

I look at the clock. "It's seven thirty."

He frowns. "I have some things I need to do."

"Oh, okay." I walk the few steps with him to the door. This feels like it's happening too fast, but then, I've had so much more than I'd expected.

"Thanks for your help tonight," he says. "I appreciate it."

"Anytime. And thanks for the jokes."

"Anytime."

"I guess I'll see you around?" I'm trying to sound casual.

He nods. "See you around."

"Um, so, goodnight."

He turns the handle and opens the door. "Goodnight." But in the hallway he stops and turns. "You're in the library every Tuesday?"

My heart does a little leap.

"Yeah, usually…every Tuesday. I have a gap between eleven thirty and twelve forty five."

He nods and adjusts the satchel over his shoulder.

"Well, goodnight then," he says once more. He gives me a small smile, raises his hand in a wave, and then he's gone.

ooo-0-ooo

**A/N: Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing, I really appreciate your comments and feedback. And some of your theories are really making me smile. For those who are curious, The Chimes are a fictitious trio of **_**a capella**_** singers I created just for this story. **

**I've started the next chapter but it probably won't be finished before Christmas. I will try for between Christmas and New Year.**

**Thank you to Melanie for speedy beta skills and lots of good laughs :)**

**And special thank you to Elizabeth440 for her feedback - much appreciated :)**

**If you celebrate Christmas I hope you have a happy one! Cheers :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Sorry for the delay, hope everyone had a lovely New Year.**

**-0- -0- -0- -0- -0- -0- -0- -0- -0- -0- **

**In a bedroom in the Cullen house on the outskirts of Portland...**

**Edward's point of view...**

Edward lay on his leather couch, arms folded behind his head as he frowned up at the ceiling. A new indie band played on his expensive sound system and he tried to concentrate on the music, unraveling the complex drum beat, listening for the subtle sounds that humans would struggle to hear, but it was hopeless; his mind was too much on other things.

He sighed and screwed his eyes shut. It was nine thirty in the morning and as the cloud shifted across the sky a weak ray of sunlight fell struggling through his window. He felt it settle on the toes of his bare feet. Edward knew his skin would be reflecting the light and perhaps any other time he would have entertained himself awhile, wriggling his toes and watching the rainbows bounce around the room, maybe try to make shapes and patterns from them. But not this morning.

It was fourteen hours since he'd left Bella Swan's apartment. For ten of those hours he had been running, speeding through the dark to the border of Idaho and back again, trying to clear his mind. For the last four he'd been just like this, lying on his couch, arms behind his head, staring at the ceiling and listening to music and still trying to clear his mind.

But for all eight hundred and forty minutes of those fourteen hours, whether running or staring, his mind had been stuck on one thing...

He opened his eyes. A rainbow crept into the periphery of his vision. Edward moved his foot and the rainbow disappeared. He didn't want to see rainbows. He didn't want anything, except...

He groaned now. And for perhaps the thousandth time he wondered how this had happened. He rubbed at his chest absently, not even realising he was doing it.

The music ended. The remote control was on the floor by the couch and without looking Edward swung his foot down and hit the replay button with his big toe, using just the right amount of pressure to start the indie band playing again and the sounds of percussion surrounded him. He shut his eyes once more.

For almost two years Edward had struggled and now, just when he'd thought he might have been finding his way again, his whole world had been thrown into disarray and doubt and confusion.

The incident in the woods outside Seattle had changed him. It had left him without his gift, without part of his memory, and without the place he thought he held in the world. His confidence had been shaken and his self-image had been shattered. With his mind-reading, and his position in the Cullen family as a sort of first-born son, Edward had held a unique place. But that wasn't the case now. Two years ago he'd been broken and humbled and there was nothing unique about him any more. Nothing special. Unless you counted the memory loss - that was pretty unusual for a vampire.

Now, in his own mind at least, he held no important role in the family; he was no longer the one they looked to to keep them safe from exposure. The special bond he'd always shared with Alice had become strained; it had always felt to Edward that they were something of a team except these days he'd been relegated to the bleachers. And now that he couldn't read her mind, Alice's occasional visions of his future felt like an invasion of his privacy. The boot was on the other foot, Rosalie had said. And though they still talked and teased and now she played chess and scrabble with him, Edward no longer shared confidences with Alice. He figured she probably knew what he was thinking before he did.

But it wasn't just with his family that Edward had felt humbled - suddenly humans had presented a whole new mystery that was as complex and confusing as it was alien. Their expressions, their body language...Edward had had to learn. Starting almost from scratch, like a newborn, he had to read people with his eyes and his ears and his emotions. He'd had to analyse and try to understand. And he had realised how little he had used his instincts around them in the past.

And he'd felt so terribly alone and so incredibly angry.

It was only now, in the last few months, that he had slowly come to terms with who he had become, and though he hoped that one day his gift would return, if he was honest, there were times when he enjoyed the peace.

But any peace he'd felt had shattered when Bella Swan had literally fallen into his life.

Edward groaned once more and flopped his arm over his eyes.

He heard Esme come through the front door, making her way up the stairs towards his room, and he focused on the rhythm of her steps for distraction, trying to fit them to the music.

_Step, beat, step, beatbeat, step, beat, step, beatbeat..._

"Come in, Esme," he said softly.

The door was standing open anyway and Esme Cullen peeked around its edge.

"Some mail for you," she grinned and held up a large white envelope. "It's from the good people at Jaguar."

Edward stood and came to her, taking the envelope and setting it down on his desk.

"Thank you," he smiled, but the smile didn't fool Esme. She watched him walk to the window.

"I thought you'd be more excited. You usually are when you're choosing a new car."

Edward kept the smile on his face as he leant against the window frame and folded his arms casually across his chest.

"It's just the paperwork for the custom specs I've ordered. It's probably wrong, it usually is on the first draft." He smiled again and turned his head to look out the window.

"I had a call from Rosalie while you were out last night," Esme said. "They're going to stay in Alaska with the Denali's a little longer, Emmett wants to make the most of the bears before they go in for hibernation."

Edward smirked. "Lucky bears," he murmured.

"I spoke to Kate too. She asked after you."

Edward's smirk dropped and so did his eyes. He'd almost made a mistake with Kate and the thought of what could have happened made him wince. He was glad now that he hadn't acted on his loneliness.

"Kate is very kind," he said quietly.

"She is." Esme folded her hands in front of her. "Is something wrong, Edward?"

"No." But Edward knew Esme wouldn't be put off so easily - she'd known him too long. He shrugged and turned to her again. "You mean apart from the lost memory and the missing mind-reading?" he smiled and she smiled back.

"You know what I mean. I don't want to pry, but I worry about my family."

Edward looked down at his feet. The sun had disappeared now and there was no sign of rainbows.

"You've already had to worry about me more than you should have over the last eighty years."

"I wouldn't say that, Edward."

He shrugged again and stared harder at his feet. And Esme waited.

Was something wrong?

Yes.

No.

"I don't know," he finally answered.

Esme smoothly rolled the chair out from under the desk and sat down. "No-one else is home," she reminded him quietly and Edward was torn. Part of him didn't want to talk about this at all, ever. Another part of him felt an almost overwhelming need to spill his guts. He lifted his eyes, wondering which way he would go because he truly didn't know, but a second later he had his answer; it only took one look at Esme's warm, affectionate smile and Edward was talking, the words tumbling out almost faster than he thought them, pacing now with his hands in his hair. Suddenly it felt _so good_ to talk.

"You ask me if something is wrong but I really don't know. Some things feel right, but then I think that they shouldn't...they _shouldn't _feel right, it's wrong that they do. Am I making any sense?" He stopped for a fleeting second and looked at Esme but then kept going again before she could answer. He cupped his hands behind his neck now as he stalked around his room. "Everything is so confusing. I feel out of control. And lost. I feel like the rest of the world has changed direction and I've missed a step somewhere along the line." He stopped by the window again, braced his hands either side of the frame and glared out at the garden that led to the woods beyond. "I thought I was back on track. I thought I knew where I was goingagain_,_" he slammed an open palm against the wood and the glass rattled. "But now, _now_..." He exhaled sharply, turned quickly and sat on the deep window sill, his long fingers curling tightly around its edge and looked at Esme through his lashes. "I've met a girl," he whispered.

"Oh, Edward..."

At the obvious delight on Esme's face Edward shook his head and looked down at the floor, his long legs stretched out in front of him, his toes digging hard into the rug.

"Please don't."

"Don't what?"

"Smile like that. It's not something to smile about."

"Why not?" Esme wanted to know.

"Because she's _human_ and I shouldn't even be thinking about her. I don't even understand _why _I'm thinking about her."

"But you _do_ think about her?"

Edward sighed heavily. "All the time." There was silence while he screwed his eyes shut again.

"I've always hated it when people describe someone as amazing..."

"But this girl is amazing?"

He nodded slowly. "I think she might be."

His eyes opened and he released his death grip on the window sill. He stood and began pacing again, calmer now.

"It's her mind," he said. "The way she thinks is...I don't know...different, somehow. She says people don't look up. I know she's not the first human to make that observation, but not many do. And she thinks it's too simple to write Henry the eighth off as a sociopath. She sees wing nuts instead of butterflies. She's kind. She's patient. She seems _older. _She has a very dry sense of humour. She likes _a capella _music. And snow globes. She reads Douglas Adams. She's incredibly clumsy, but even though she's one of the most fragile looking humans I've ever seen there's a strength about her. And her eyes..." his words stopped and so did his pacing. His brow furrowed in a frown. "Her eyes are deeper than most humans'." He moved to his couch and sat down, legs spread, elbows on knees, face cradled between his hands as he stared at the floor again.

"That's quite a list," Esme said quietly.

"It is."

"What's her name?"

Edward lifted his eyes.

"Bella. Her name is Bella."

Esme smiled, a soft smile that was something almost like relief, Edward thought.

"Is it Bella's eyes that drew you to her?"

"No," he shook his head. "There was nothing at first, nothing at all." It had been a slow awakening for Edward, if three weeks could be called slow. "She was just like any other human, except the first time I saw her she was holding the bookmark I'd lost."

Esme's eyebrows rose. "How could you _lose_ something, Edward?"

Edward gave her a wry smile. "It wasn't actually me who lost it," he said and explained briefly about the girl in the library who asked to copy a chapter from his psychology textbook and then returned the book without the bookmark. "I went back to the library to look for it and she...Bella, I mean...had found it."

He talked about how he must have scared her, coming out of the shadows as he had, how her heart had raced crazily and the colour drained from her face as he'd thanked her and walked away, and then how irritated he had been when she'd called after him and introduced herself. _Another one who's learned my name, _he'd thought. And though he'd been polite and smiled and said pleased to meet you, he'd been so eager to get away.

"But I must have scared her more than I'd realised, because as I walked back to the car I could hear her breathing shallow out and her pulse change and I knew she was going to faint. No-one else was around so I thought I should probably go back to help her." He shrugged. "Her friend arrived as she was coming round and I left."

"As first meetings go that one is certainly different," Esme smiled.

"I suppose it is," Edward smiled back, just a small one. He shifted, leaning back against the wall. "I didn't give her another thought until I saw her a week later. She was studying in the library and I thought I should probably ask how she was feeling." His query had been for no other reason than for appearance sake. Edward remembered how she had startled again, and then how she had stared so hard at him, almost like she was trying to see inside him. "That was the first time I noticed her eyes," he said. But he'd looked away again quickly. She'd wanted to buy him a coffee and he'd extracted himself from the invitation as politely as he could. Fortunately, her study-partner Alex had arrived and Edward had said goodbye and Bella Swan had faded from his thoughts as soon as his back had turned and he'd gone to borrow a book at the loans desk. But as he'd waited in line he'd heard her tell Alex that people don't look up. He'd been surprised to hear her say it and it had made him smile. _Observant, _he'd thought and listened closer for a moment to hear if she said anything else that was interesting, but she hadn't. So he had borrowed his book and forgotten about her as soon as he'd walked out the library door.

"What happened next?" Esme prompted gently.

"She works in a music store." Edward tilted his head back and spoke to a crack in the ceiling. "I didn't know she would be there. There was a long line of customers, she and the other sales assistant were rushed off their feet. Her voice was just background noise with everything else, I was paying no particular attention."

He'd been selecting CDs at the time, including the one that played on his stereo now. He had merely registered Bella's presence, in much the same way he'd registered that her colleague was a Goth and that Meatloaf was playing through the speakers...until she'd served that man in the Def Leppard hoodie.

"She had a difficult customer," Edward said softly. "He was trying to return a CD because he didn't like it, even though he'd played it. His voice was getting louder but Bella was so polite. She apologised but told him they didn't refund for change of mind if the CD had already been played. He told her he didn't give a sh..." Edward stopped and glanced quickly at Esme. "Sorry."

She waved his apology away with an indulgent look. "You think I haven't heard you and your brothers when you're fighting, Edward? Just keep going."

He gave her a sheepish smile and continued. "This guy wasn't interested in what Bella had to say, he just wanted his money back. He was belligerent, and obnoxious, and rude to her, and..." Edward frowned now as he remembered. "And suddenly I wanted to walk over there and plant myself in front of her."

It had been such a strange, almost overwhelming urge, like nothing he had felt before. Ever. So strong, so powerful, it had shaken and disturbed him like nothing he could remember. He'd let Beethoven drop to the floor.

"He sounds awful," Esme broke into his memories.

"Hm? Oh, he was. But Bella handled it," Edward said slowly. "I looked around the edge of the shelves and she was very calm, still polite, but there was the slightest tremor in her hands so I knew she wasn't completely uneffected. She told him she was sorry if he'd had difficulty understanding the returns policy but she'd be happy to get the manager to explain it to him, if the other customers didn't mind waiting."

Esme chuckled softly. "Sounds like she put him in his place."

"She did. And he looked around at the line of grumbling customers, the guy behind him told him to just get going, so he shoved the CD in his pocket and stalked out. And Bella went on working like nothing had happened."

He had stood behind the racks, watching her as she smiled and helped the rest of her customers while he had tried to get a handle on his feelings, because now that urge to protect had combined with a soft admiration. The girl, Bella, had a resilience about her, a strength that belied the fragility of her appearance. _So strong for one so breakable_, he'd thought. And though he had tried to fight the feeling, he had realised then that he wanted to know more about her and he'd known he couldn't leave the store without speaking to her.

He'd watched the line dwindle down to a single customer, a teenage boy who couldn't decide about a gift for his mother. Edward had waited for his chance as Bella patiently helped the boy and kindly offered suggestions, and Edward had wondered what on earth he would say to her. He had tried to think of things to ask, rejecting each conversation-opener as he thought of it. He'd almost abandoned the idea altogether at one point, but suddenly the teenager was gone and Edward found himself in front of Bella's register.

"I only had a couple of CD's in my hand," he told Esme. "So I grabbed more as I walked towards the counter, I wanted to have as long as I could with her and I didn't even know what I'd picked out until she commented on my interesting collection." He winced now at the memory. "I'm sure she knew I was embarrassed, and she joked around with me about it, trying to make me feel better, I think. And she _made me smile._" Even now he sounded incredulous. "Then I found out she liked The Chimes...not everyone enjoys _a capella _and I wanted..." He stopped, remembering the conflict he'd felt as he'd stood before Bella, feeling things he couldn't fathom.

"You wanted what?"

"I wanted too much," he hissed, letting his head drop back against the wall. "I was staring at the CD's, watching her scan them..." The skin of her hands was so fair, he remembered, the veins so fine, creating delicate patterns of blue as her life pulsed through them. "And the pile was getting smaller and smaller and I didn't want her to get to the end, but I knew I shouldn't feel that way, I shouldn't _care _if she got to the end. I shouldn't have grabbed a pile of polka CD's just so I could talk to her."

"Polka?"

Edward nodded and waved a dismissive hand. "And Glenn Campbell. Some Willy Nelson. The Monkees Greatest Hits. There might have been a Streisand compilation."

Esme began to giggle. "Oh, Edward..."

"I know," he groaned and shut his eyes.

"But you did talk to her."

"I tried to. But I didn't do very well..." he shook his head "We barely said anything really, I think I frowned a lot, and I came away even more confused." He shook his head some more and rubbed his hands over his face. "I wasn't just curious about her anymore, I was _interested._"

"What happened next?" Esme asked.

"I went away," he mumbled through his fingers. "Hunting."

"Oh, yes, I remember. I thought at the time you seem distracted."

Distracted? Edward smiled wryly; distracted was one way to describe it, he supposed.

"I thought if I got away I would realise what I'd felt was just an aberration. I thought I'd come back and everything would be like before, my interest in Bella would have waned and she'd be just like every other human again."

"But she wasn't?"

Edward shook his head.

He had gone back to school and watched her from a distance, determined to discover that she was actually boring and dull and not the silver lining to his constant cloud cover. But he had discovered just the opposite. She _was _different. And she was special..._to him_. He realised that the first time he saw her stumble over a tree root and his hands shot out reflexively to catch her, even though he was on the other side of the campus lawn. And the realisation was compounded when he heard her laughing with some other students in the corridors of the history department. The sweet sound warmed him like nothing else, he'd found himself wanting to know what she found so funny.

But sometimes she looked sad, he thought. His vampire eyes would see expressions in her eyes and on her face that he didn't understand...but he wanted to understand, and that confused him as much as anything else.

_Why_ did he care what she felt? Or how often she tucked her hair behind her ears? Or that she seemed to bite her nails? Or that her rusted, red truck looked like it would fall apart if it drove over a speed bump too quickly?

He'd thought about following her home to see where she lived. He'd even trailed her out of the school parking lot, but when she'd turned left he'd turned right. He couldn't do it, somewhere deep inside him he knew it was wrong.

"I decided yesterday that I'd speak to her again," he told Esme. He rubbed absently at his chest once more. "I thought if I spent longer with her, got her into an actual conversation, just the two of us, I'd see there was nothing special about her after all and the feelings I'd had really would go away. So I waited for her in the library."

He remembered how he'd watched every flicker of her eyes as she'd sat opposite him, feeling himself getting lost in their depths, wanting to know the secrets they held. He'd listened to the rhythm of her heart, the thud of her pulse and the nervous jiggling of her leg beneath the table. His own foot had been tapping frantically on the floor .

She hadn't seemed frightened of him though. Her heart had had a different beat that he couldn't decipher - it wasn't the pound of fear or the race of lust that he heard so often from humans.

"She was studying Tudor England," Edward went on. "She said she thought it was too simplistic to attribute Henry the eighth's actions to possible sociopathy alone. She thought culture and environment and superstition had roles to play."

"And you agreed?" Esme smiled.

"No, not at all," Edward grinned. "I think the style of Henry's rein was fuelled purely by sociopathy, otherwise he would have lost his throne before his first year was out. But it was fascinating to hear her theories, and she looked at a much broader picture than most humans. Henry as a sociopath is a common enough idea, but she looked beyond that, she tried to understand him. She didn't take things at face value."

Esme's eyes were very gentle.

"I think that shows a young woman with a great depth of understanding," she said.

Edward pulled a hand through his hair.

"Maybe. But while we talked, I could just feel myself...I can't explain it."

Edward could explain it, he just didn't want to - he wanted to keep it all to himself, that feeling like he was falling from a great height, like the world had dropped away and he was spiralling through space, not knowing where he was going...or where he would end up. And that Bella was falling with him.

"We talked about a song she recommended," he said quickly. "And later I found I liked her taste in music and books, too - I discovered that when I was in her apartment."

"You've been in her apartment?" Esme's eyebrows were up but there was a smile tugging at her lips.

"There was no impropriety," Edward was quick to assure her.

"I didn't think there would be," she assured him just as quickly. "But I thought that if you were trying to convince yourself you weren't interested in Bella, you wouldn't be going to her home."

"You'd think so, wouldn't you?" He shook his head. "I asked her to help me with a psychology assignment."

The request had come out of his mouth without any thought at all. He'd almost hoped she would say no, but she hadn't. She'd said yes. And a few hours later he'd found himself parked outside her building, debating with himself. He hadn't wanted to think about the fact that the cell number she'd written down for him was already programmed into his phone. His fingers had pummeled lightly on the steering wheel as he'd stared at her building, guessing which apartment was hers. He'd been early, ten minutes, and he'd turned on the radio for distraction and to pass the time but The Clash had crashed through his speakers..._Should I Stay or Should I Go..._and he'd groaned and got out of the car and decided to debate his actions in the hall outside Bella's door instead. A minute later he'd stood, hugging his satchel, listening to her moving around inside.

Twice he'd turned around and headed for the stairs.

Twice he'd come back again.

Finally he'd lifted his hand to knock.

"And then I found myself wondering...what if she doesn't like me?"

Edward looked up at Esme and pain and confusion were there in his face. "And that thought had come from nowhere, and I didn't know why it would matter if she didn't. I've never cared before if a human liked me or not. But now it did matter." Suddenly he pushed off the couch and stalked across to the window again where he began ticking off a new list as he stared outside and fisted his fingers in his hair. "She makes me smile, she intrigues me, her thoughts are challenging...I wanted to know her better and_ I wanted her to like me." _He sounded almost angry. Then he turned to look at Esme. Her smile was very warm and gentle but there was something in her eyes he couldn't read.

"What did you do?" she asked calmly

Edward took a deep breath and let go of his hair. He slouched back to the couch and dropped onto it, sprawling over the leather.

"I knocked on her door."

Bella's apartment had been neat and compact and smelt like her...the delicate, almost floral, scent had filled his nostrils as she'd invited him inside, but the tickling smoulder in his throat had barely registered.

His eyes had gone straight to Bella's bookshelves, devouring the titles there, and he'd been surprised by what he'd seen. Among the standard classics, Bronte and Austen, she'd had a mix of philosophy, some thrillers, textbooks and..._science fiction_? She hadn't struck him as a science fiction sort of girl, but Douglas Adams' _Hitchhiker's _series had caught his attention - the five books were favourites of his - and he'd smiled. He'd found himself wanting to discuss them with her, wanting to know if she had a favourite, and then that thought had bothered him, so he'd moved on to her CDs.

And of course her music collection was interesting too - so many of the titles on her shelves also sat on his; from classical to current. And then he'd seen the snow globe, and he'd re-discovered a lost memory from his human childhood.

As he'd held the plastic souvenir from Phoenix and watched the silver glitter float around the little green cactus he'd wondered what it was about this girl that made him not just remember, but_ talk _about trips to the zoo with his parents. It was probably the same thing that made him want to protect her, the same thing that made him want get to know her better. And he didn't know what that _thing _was. He'd put the little globe down and decided to focus on what he'd come to do - show Bella blots of ink on pieces of cardboard.

"Every time she said something I wanted to know more. Every answer she gave just had me wanting to ask another question or fifty," Edward sighed as he looked at Esme. "We ended up talking about her mother and I could see why she's more mature than the average sophomore - she's had a lot of responsibility from a young age. But then I upset her."

"What did you do?" Esme's eyebrows were up, her eyes wide, clearly ready to reproach him.

"Nothing intentional," Edward answered. "It was a word association test. One of the words brought up a bad memory. I had no way of knowing...but she became upset."

_Birthday..._

_Gone..._

He wouldn't give Esme details, he had the feeling the birthday incident was a very personal thing for Bella and she wouldn't want him telling others.

"I didn't know what to do," Edward winced at the memory. "I don't think I've ever felt so _helpless._"

Bella had walked away to the kitchen, her back to him as she'd dabbed her eyes with tissues and he'd stood, hands in his hair, heart in his throat, aghast at what he'd done...even though he had no idea what that was. He'd apologised, she'd waved his apology away. But as she'd given him a vague story of a destroyed birthday, an anger had built in him. His hands had curled tightly into fists, the steel of his fingernails digging into the granite of his palms. He had felt so terribly sorry, and so incredibly angry. And his quiet rage on her behalf had shocked him.

He didn't know what had happened to Bella, but the thought of anything, or anyone, ever hurting her, was unbearable. The pain of it had seared through him, he'd felt as though he'd been sliced open and burned.

"She was crying," he whispered.

At the scent of her tears Edward's fists had fallen open. He had reached out, his hand trembling, wanting to protect and comfort, but not sure how. Not sure that he should. Not sure it would be welcomed.

Now he rubbed at his chest again.

"What did you do?" Esme whispered. Her eyes could almost have had tears as she watched him.

"I didn't_ know_ what to do," he shook his head. "I thought I should leave, but Bella convinced me she was fine to finish the assignment. There was only one more question, anyway." It had been the resolve in her eyes and the calm in her voice that had persuaded him. _Strong,_ he'd thought. _She's strong._ "And after that there really was no need for me to stay but when it came to it..."

"You couldn't leave?"

He shook his head. "I couldn't leave. And I wanted to make her smile again...when she smiles..." He dropped his head. "I like it when she smiles."

Esme reached over and covered his hand with hers, giving a gentle squeeze before pulling away again.

"I couldn't leave until she was happy again but I couldn't think how to do it, so I took my time putting everything back in my satchel and in the end the only thing I could think of..."

He paused and scrunched up his face.

"What? What did you think of?" Esme was eager to know.

"I told her some of Emmett's knock knock jokes."

Esme's hand flew to her mouth but she wasn't quick enough to stifle her chuckle.

"I know, I know..." Edward shut his eyes and banged his head softly against the wall.

"Which ones?" Esme pulled her hand away from her mouth.

"I did the psychologist with the light bulb..." Edward grimaced.

There was a small bubble of laughter from Esme.

"And I told the story about the man with the parrot..."

"Oh, Edward..." she giggled now.

"And..." he pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes. "I did the interrupting cow," he whispered.

Esme didn't bother to stifle her laughs now.

"No! You didn't? Did you really do the interrupting cow?"

"I did."

"That joke is dreadful!"

"I know," he groaned and banged his head back against the wall some more, eyes closed. "I can't believe I told it to her. I can't believe I told her _any _of them."

But that was the thing with Bella, he was beginning to realise - she made him do, and feel, things he never had before.

"Oh, Edward...I wish I'd heard you. You've never..."

"Yes, I know, I never tell jokes," he said briskly and waited for Esme's laughter to fade. He had to wait a while but he wore an amused smile as he watched her. At last she was able to speak again.

"Did it work?"

"Well, she didn't throw me out."

"But did Bella smile?"

Did Bella smile?

"She did," Edward grinned, and his voice still echoed his disbelief, but his smile reflected his joy. Inside his chest his heart almost felt like it was beating. It had felt that way last night, too.

It had been so beautiful. Watching Bella throw her head back, hearing her laughter, seeing her wipe at her eyes and how she clutched her stomach when it became too much and she begged him to stop. Knowing it was him who'd made her happy.

"They were the worst jokes," he said, shaking his head. "But then _she_ told _me_ some which were just as bad, if not worse. And we just went on."

"Telling jokes?" Esme had recovered from her laughter, but her face still wore a smile.

"Telling jokes. It was _fun_." Edward said this like it was the greatest puzzle in the world. "I had the most fun...since I can't remember when. Just telling bad jokes and it was one of the best evenings of my existence." He could have shared the same jokes with any other human on the planet and been bored witless.

Esme was beaming at him, but suddenly Edward's smile faded and he was scowling as he stared towards the window. The sun was struggling to come out again, and failing.

"But I know nothing good can come of it," he said suddenly.

Esme leant forward now, Edward could feel her keen eyes on him. Alice might be able to see his future, but Edward had always felt Esme could see through right through him.

"Why not, Edward?" she asked and Edward turned sharply, meeting her gaze straight on.

"You've seen my red eyes," he whispered.

There was a moment of heavy silence, then Esme nodded and sat back again.

"You're right. I have seen them. I hugged you when you came back to us and I sat with you while you told Carlisle and I what you'd done. I've heard your confessions and seen your remorse, Edward. And I've seen your eyes turn gold again, and _stay gold_ for the past seventy four years."

Edward looked away out the window. The music had finished but he felt no need to hit the replay button again. The silence had a beat all its own.

"I crave control," he admitted softly. "Without the mind-reading...I can't describe to you how out of controlI felt at the beginning, and still do feel sometimes. And _vulnerable_, I felt _unbelievably_ vulnerable. But with this girl, Bella, any control I've clawed back over the past two years has just...vanished. I'm vulnerable again. But this time I don't feel so empty."

"Empty?"

Edward nodded. "Without my gift it's been as if a part of me was missing, but the last week or so, that space hasn't felt so hollow."

"Do you think it was just the loss of your gift that made you feel that way?" Esme said lightly. She was playing distractedly with her sleeve and Edward frowned.

"Of course, what else?" He wondered if there was something she was keeping from him. He'd wondered that a lot over the past couple of years.

"I wondered...maybe some memories?"

Ah. The memories.

Edward shook his head. "No. Any memories of Forks that I've lost are inconsequential, meaningless. I can base that easily on what I _do _remember." He dismissed Forks with a wave of his hand.

Esme chewed on her lip as Edward let out a slow breath now. "If I could read one mind, _just one, _it would be Bella's. The number of times I've wanted to know what she's thinking..." He sighed, shut his eyes and rubbed his hands over his face. "I should leave her alone. I should stay away from her...I keep telling myself this, over and over again, I should stay away..."

"But why?" Esme cut in. "Do you think you might be a danger to Bella?"

Edward opened his eyes and looked at her from between his fingers.

"No." He shook his head. "Never. I know that." He didn't how he knew it but he did. He knew as surely as he knew his own name.

"Then what is it?"

Edward dropped his hands from his face and stood up. Pacing again. Esme watched him as she might watch a tennis match, her head swivelling back and forth as he strode from one side of the room to the other.

"She's human. I'm not. That's a pretty big _what is it._ I can't tell her what I am and if I did she'd probably go running and screaming and we'd have to pack up and move. Again. But..." Edward stopped... the memory of Bella, crying in her kitchen, laughing at his jokes, filled his mind. And his heart. He rubbed at his chest. "But she doesn't seem frightened of me," he whispered. That was something else about her that had him curious...if most humans got too close he could smell the fear

There was a small sound from Esme. Edward turned and saw her throat working and her lip trembling.

"Esme?" She blinked hard and pulled herself together quickly as he knelt in front of her, concerned. "What?"

"Nothing," she smiled and touched his cheek, pushed the hair out of his eyes. "I just want to ask you one thing...do you like Bella, Edward?"

Edward dropped his eyes.

As he'd run through the night he had gone over every second of the time he'd spent with Bella...every word, every expression, every gesture. And he'd analysed how he'd felt each time, and as he'd analysed those feelings that had been so confusing and blurred in the beginning had gradually grown sharper and clearer - like a developing photograph.

Around the time he'd hit the border into Idaho some of his feelings had come into focus with alarming vividness. He'd almost stumbled as his epiphany hit him and his foot had scraped over a rock that normally he would barely touch.

"I care for her," he whispered, lifting his eyes so his hair fell into them again. "It's only the last few hours I've realised just how important her happiness is to me." More important than anything else in the world. Even more than his own life. Though he still wasn't sure why. There was still so much that was confusing, the photograph still wasn't fully developed.

Esme gave a soft smile.

"That hair," she murmured and he smiled too as she pushed it back again. "So you care for Bella?"

"I want her to be happy."

"That's the best start," Esme smiled.

"The best start?"

She nodded as Edward blinked at her, frowning. "I don't know if I'm the best _anything_. I keep telling myself I'm definitely not the best person for Bella to be around. But then I think..."

This was what he'd been warring over as he lay on his couch earlier. "But then I think that's not my decision to make."

Esme gasped. She reached out and gently took his face between her hands. Edward thought again that she might cry, her smile quivered.

"You're right," she mouthed. "It's not your decision." She took away her hands and put them, prayer-like, to her lips. "Just let it happen, Edward, please," she whispered against her fingers. "Let nature take its course, and if Bella likes you, _let her_."

Esme's reaction surprised Edward, the passion in her voice, the joy in her eyes, but the possibilities in her words were sweet and he found himself smiling. Could he just let it happen? Whatever _it _was? He still didn't know, he still didn't fully understand what he felt, but somewhere, some place so deep he couldn't reach it, suddenly something felt right.

"Okay," Edward whispered back. Esme reached out and touched his cheek again.

"And of course she'll like you, because you are so likeable, Edward."

Then she turned sharply to look over her shoulder. Edward heard it too. Alice and Jasper were back from hunting.

"Likeable? Edward?" Jasper's grinning voice floated up the stairs to them. "Yeah, I'd like to see that."

"Jasper!" Alice scolded, giggling.

Edward snorted. "Alice, have you let a damned Yankee in the house?"

It was Jasper's turn to snort. Alice giggled again and Esme rolled her eyes as she dropped her hand from Edward's cheek.

"Well, you _can _be likeable," she sighed.

Edward grinned as he stood up and held out his hand to Esme, helping her up.

"Thank you," he whispered and kissed her cheek.

She smiled and waved him away as Jasper appeared in the doorway.

"Not interrupting?" he looked from Esme to Edward.

"Just bringing Edward his mail." Esme pointed to the envelope as Alice walked in, too.

"Alice says a thunderstorm is rolling in towards the coast," Jasper grinned. "Want to go swimming off the cliffs? The cloud cover is staying put."

Esme left them to it as Edward debated. Jumping off cliffs and being tossed around in storm-ravaged seas was like the vampire equivalent of riding a roller-coaster. He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck - the offer was tempting and he did so little with his siblings these days. And he could use the distraction, it might help clear his mind.

"Please?" Alice bounced up and down on her toes, puppy-dog eyes on.

"Alright," he grinned.

"Yay!" she squealed and began clapping her hands. Edward rolled his eyes.

"But I drive," he added firmly. He hated being a passenger.

Jasper and Alice agreed and then disappeared. Edward grabbed a pair of board shorts from his drawer and his car keys from the battered trophy cup on his shelf.

He bounded down the stairs three at a time, landing with a soundless thud in the foyer. He glided past the hall table where the rest of the mail lay waiting - a credit card statement for Rosalie, a catalogue for Emmett. He saw the letter for Carlisle and noted the Brazilian postmark but didn't give it a second thought - his vampire brain was too busy thinking of how to dunk Jasper under the waves...and how he could make up to Bella for her lost birthday because her happiness had become the most important thing in his world.

**A/N: Thank you all so much for reading and supporting this story, your reviews make me smile and mean so much :)**

**Next chapter: soon I hope :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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It's been three days since I've seen Edward.

Three days since he sat here, in my apartment, in that rocking chair over there, and told me jokes.

I still can't get over that.

The history notes I'm supposed to be studying sit on my lap, unread, barely even looked-at. Instead I stare at the rocking chair, smiling.

Interrupting cow.

"Moo," I whisper quietly.

Yeah, still can't get over that.

Instead of beating himself up over my mini-meltdown, Edward had tried to cheer me up.

The Edward I knew before wouldn't have done that. The Edward I knew before would have agonised. He would have shut down and shut me out. He would have turned everything on himself. Blamed himself. And I would have felt bad that he felt bad...and I would have blamed_ myself._

But _this _Edward didn't think about himself, he thought about _me._

And he didn't try to solve the problem by leaving. He listened to me when I told him I was alright, and he stayed.

And he made me smile again.

I wonder now at the change in him and I remember Alice's words ... _Edward's not the same person he was..._

Moo...

I think of how he asked if I'm always in the library on Tuesdays before he said his final goodnight. I remember how I closed the door behind him and leant against it, grinning, barely breathing, then how I ran, stumbling, to the window to watch for him. He'd already been crossing the street, head down, satchel over his shoulder, hands sunk deep in his pockets. The rain was spotting his jacket and sitting like diamonds in his hair. He stopped at a dark blue car parked by the curb. As he opened the driver's door he hesitated and I wondered if he would look up.

He did.

He looked up.

And he smiled and lifted his hand in a wave. And I waved back, happy that he'd looked for me, shy that he'd caught me watching for him. Then he drove away down the street and I had flopped on the sofa, hugging myself.

I hug myself again now and wonder when I'll see him next. Tuesday, I hope, in the library. Though if I'm honest, I've been hoping he might seek me out before then. But he hasn't, not so far, anyway.

I've looked for him each day at school, in the corridors, the college grounds, but there's been no sign. At work my head snaps up each time the door opens and a new customer walks in...but it's never him. My phone has been quiet.

Now a small flicker of doubt comes creeping.

What if I got it wrong?

What if he was just being friendly, but doesn't want to be my friend?

_I'm not a good friend for you, Bella..._

His words from so long ago make a haunting return. In the quiet of my apartment their memory echos loudly. I begin to wonder if Carlisle was right when he said Edward might make different decisions this time around. He still might think he's not a good friend for me. Maybe he's spent three days thinking about it...and has decided to stay away.

It's possible.

It's something I have to consider. Something I have to accept. And I can't let all my thoughts, my decisions, my _life_, revolve around something that might not happen. I did that once before, I won't do it again. I can't.

My stomach clenches and rolls. My eyes blink and burn. My mood swing would rival Edward's.

I need a distraction.

It's almost eight o'clock and I realise I haven't eaten dinner. I'm not hungry, but cooking will keep my mind busy. I hope.

I shed the notes from my lap, get off the sofa and take a recipe book from the small shelf in the kitchen. I pick something complicated, something that will take time and precision cutting and lots of ingredients.

An elaborate salsa sauce fits the bill and I'll roast some vegetables to go with it. The list of ingredients is long - I have most of them, the ones I don't have I think I can manage without, except for the garlic. I think I definitely need the garlic. But there's no way I'm getting in my truck and driving to the supermarket at eight o'clock at night just for that. There's one of those 24-hour convenience stores two blocks away - their prices are expensive but tonight I'll make an exception. And the walk might do me good. Even if it's cold and dark, at least it's dry.

I pull on my jacket, grab my bag but when I open the door I gasp, and take a startled step back.

Edward Cullen is standing outside my door.

"You're going out." He frowns at my jacket and bag.

"Just walked in," I smile and drop the bag on the floor but he knows I'm lying - there's the subtlest twitch of his lips. "Um, hi Edward."

"Hello Bella." He smiles back, but it's cautious.

We stare at each for a moment. He's here. He came back. And it's not even Tuesday. My heart is fist pumping inside my chest. _See? _it's telling me, _told you he'd come back._

Suddenly I realise he's still standing in the hallway.

"Sorry..." I roll my eyes at myself and pull the door open wide. "Do you want to come in?"

I step back. Edward seems hesitant and I realise now that his hands are behind his back, but he nods and walks slowly into my living room. I close the door and there's silence, except for my heart - even I can hear it.

Edward looks around, he subtly shifts his weight from one leg to the other - most people wouldn't notice, but I do. It's a very human gesture, it's uncharacteristic, and it tells me that he's nervous. His hands are still behind his back.

"Um, do you want to sit down?" I gesture towards the sofa and Edward looks at it but doesn't move. Instead he takes a slow breath in - his face is so serious.

My heart stutters now - I have the feeling he hasn't just dropped in to say hello.

"I've been trying to think what to do," he says cryptically, frowning down at the rug. "I'm not used to..." The frown deepens, I can see the crease between his eyebrows as he shakes his head, exhales quickly and looks up at me. He swallows and I watch the slow movement of his throat. There is apprehension in his eyes and in his voice.

"A birthday is something to be enjoyed. And I thought you might like to have a new one."

Now he brings his hands from behind his back.

In his right he holds a small chocolate cake with a blue candle in its centre. In his left is a snowglobe with a wide red bow sitting on top.

"To add to your collection." He shrugs shyly.

I can't speak. I can't even breathe. I look up and Edward's eyes are serious and sincere but still so apprehensive. They stare directly into mine and he gives me a hesitant, crooked smile.

"Happy birthday, Bella."

My heart is too full, I still can't speak, and even if I could there are no words. No words at all. This is too much to take in.

This man, this beautiful man, is standing here, wanting to give me back what I've lost, trying to make something right out of something wrong - and he doesn't even know what _the wrong_, is. The thought behind his gift is so tender, so precious...I want to weep...

"You're...you're giving me a new birthday?" I whisper hoarsely.

He swallows again, smiles down at me, right into my eyes. "You should be happy. It's..._important_...that you're happy..." His words fade away and he's frowning softly again. His eyes flicker to his outstretched hands and the gifts they hold. "Is this alright? Perhaps it's..."

I nod vigorously. "Yes. Yes. It's alright, yes." I swallow down hot tears.

Edward's smile widens and his face floods with relief. The caution drops from his eyes and his stance and he makes the subtlest roll of his shoulders. Then he uncurls a finger from around the snowglobe and, still smiling, beckons me to follow him.

We make our way to the counter that separates the kitchen from the living room. Edward sets down the cake and the snowglobe and we sit, side by side, on the mismatched wooden stools. Edward pulls a box of matches from his pocket, lights the candle with a theatrical, exaggerated flourish that makes me giggle - his relief has made him playful. He winks as he pushes the cake towards me.

"Make a wish," he smiles. "It's traditional."

I look at his smile, the cake, the little flickering candle, my snowglobe with its beautiful bow...I'm overwhelmed once more and now the tears spill unbidden down my cheeks.

"You're crying?" He's suddenly aghast.

"I'm happy," I choke out quickly. "Just really, really happy." He looks uncertain for a moment but my shaky, teary smile convinces him and he relaxes once more. He smiles back at me.

"Have you made your wish?"

I nod.

"Then blow," he whispers, pushing the cake a little closer.

So I blow, hoping I don't spit all over the cake. The tiny flame flickers and disappears, a thin curl of white smoke takes its place then it vanishes too. I calculate the date in my head.

"October twenty fifth," I sniff. "My new birthday is October twenty fifth."

"Is that okay?"

The tears come with sound effects now and a sob breaks free.

"It's perfect," I croak. "This is all perfect. You have no idea...I...thank you, just...thank you so much."

I wipe my sleeve over my face. "It was my pleasure," Edward says softly. "Do you need tissues?"

His question makes me laugh and I shake my head. "No, the sleeve is good."

He grins, and I'm still trying to take it all in as he picks up the snowglobe and hands it to me.

It's the type you'd buy from a souvenir shop and I laugh some more as I shake it and little white flakes swirl around a plastic mountain with a miniature of The Portland Building in front of it. On the black base it says _Portland, City of Roses_ in plain white print. My fingers gently touch the red bow.

"You have no idea how precious this is," I whisper.

My heart swells until it feels too big for my chest and now I can't stop myself - I slide off my stool, close the small gap between us and slip my arms under his, wrapping them around his waist. I hug him tight. I press my cheek against him. I shut my eyes and it feels so good, so familiar, so _right, _the hard span of his chest beneath my cheek. So many memories, there were so many nights he lay in my bed with me curled up against him, and his arms around me.

But his arms aren't around me now.

I'm so caught up, remembering, savouring, that it takes me a moment to realise that Edward is not hugging me back. I open my eyes and see his arms held slightly away from his body, away from _me_, like he's trying not to touch me. I unwind myself and step back as I slowly look up at him. His eyes are dark now, and wide as he stares down at me, watching me warily, like I'm a snake about to strike. I'm reminded of his words that day in the meadow..._I wasn't expecting you to come so close._

Slowly he lowers his arms. My heart burns in my chest.

"I'm sorry," I say quickly. "I didn't mean..."

"Don't apologise," he smiles, cutting me off. The smile is polite and easy, his features are smooth now, unreadable, but the movement of his throat belies his calm. He gives himself away again when his foot taps rapidly on the rung of the stool - somehow it's soundless, but its movement catches my eye.

"I should probably go," he says.

What? No! NO!

"Please don't, not if you don't have to." With enormous effort I try to sound casual. "Stay and celebrate my birthday with me."

Edward looks uncertain again, scowling down at his hands on his thighs, and I wonder if it's just my hug that's spooked him so much, or something else. I walk around the other side of the counter, giving him space.

He's looking down. I can see his struggle in the tightness of his jaw, in the way he holds himself, the way his fingers curl into his palms. I look away as I get a knife and a plate and cut myself a slice of cake. I grab a spoon and dig in.

"Delicious," I mumble through a mouthful. "Thank you."

"It's good?" His eyes are on me again.

"Mm, really good."

His face relaxes in a smile but I'm left open-mouthed and staring when he picks up some crumbs and licks them from his fingers.

"Um, good?" I ask. He doesn't answer, just smiles.

"You like cooking?" He nods towards the recipe books lined up, and the one open on the counter. Whatever his internal conflict, it looks like it's over for now.

"Most of them belong to my mom. She gave them to me when I moved out on my own."

"Tibetan Cooking for the Soul." He reads the spine of the book on the end of the shelf. "What have you cooked from that?"

"Nothing. It's hard to get yak at the local Safeway." Edward smirks and this makes me grin. "Actually they're all vegetarian recipes. No yaks were harmed in the writing of that book." Now he chuckles softly and I come back around to my stool and sit again.

Edward's eyes wander along the counter to the small pile of papers that sit by the coffee jar. There are a couple of bills, a credit card statement, but on top is an invitation from Alison to a halloween party.

"Dress to Distress," Edward arches an eyebrow at the party theme written in spooky-style lettering. "Who is Alison?"

"We work together at The Drum."

"Are you going to go?"

I shrug my shoulders and cut myself another piece of cake. Suddenly I'm hungry.

"I said I would. She's so excited and I don't want to hurt her feelings, but Halloween's never really been my thing."

"No trick or treating as kid?"

"Oh, I did that," I grin. "A kid never turns down free candy. But the fancy dress parties and stuff..." I shake my head. "Not my thing."

As I'm speaking I realise that Edward and I have never had this part of the year. I knew him from January to September. We never had Halloween, or Thanksgiving, or Christmas, or New Years. I don't know what he or his family do for any of these holidays. Do vampires celebrate Christmas?

"What about you?" I lean my elbows on the counter and rest my chin in my hands.

"I don't really do Halloween, either." He smirks softly, as though laughing at some private joke. It reminds me of the school cafeteria in Forks, when it felt like he spoke in riddles and code. But now I've broken the code, I'm in on the joke - of course the vampire wouldn't do Halloween.

"Thanksgiving?"

"Yes," he answers simply, and I wonder what a vampire Thanksgiving would involve so I carefully probe a little bit,

"Do you do the traditional thing?"

"We spend time together as a family," he says vaguely. I guess that means the Cullens hunt together instead of separately.

"Do you watch the football game?"

"Absolutely," he grins now. "You can't have Thanksgiving without the game."

"What about Christmas?" I realise I'm leaning in closer. Edward rests one elbow on the counter, his hand cupped around the back of his neck - the space between us is getting smaller.

"Christmas is big," he admits. "I have a sister, Alice, and she goes all out with decorations and a tree." He gives an exaggerated eye roll and I laugh. I can just imagine Alice at Christmas.

"A real tree?"

"Of course."

"How big?"

"Huge." Grinning, he holds his hand up high above his head.

"You give gifts?"

"Don't most people?"

"Oh, sure, yes, I just...wondered."

He looks at me curiously. "Why so many questions about the holidays?"

I don't know what to say, my mind races and it's a moment before I come up with a version of the truth.

"It's hear what other people do," I shrug. "We all talk about tradition, but not everyone celebrates the same way, sometimes people make their own traditions."

Edward eyes me for a moment. "You're right," he murmurs.

I shift on my stool, taking my hands from my face and tracing patterns on the counter top with my finger instead.

"So, you have the big family Christmas, then?" My mind swims with images of the Cullens around a Christmas tree, exchanging gifts, tearing through wrapping paper, laughing. I realise I'm smiling as Edward starts speaking again.

"You could say that. There are seven of us. Alice and I live with our brother, Carlisle, and his wife, Esme."

My finger stops making its patterns.

Carlisle is his brother, now? This is news. When I've spoken with Carlisle and Alice neither of them mentioned this. But I suppose it makes sense...Carlisle as a foster father doesn't make sense when Edward's a sophomore in college. I'm processing this as Edward continues.

"Esme's brother Emmett and his wife Rosalie live with us too, although they travel a lot...they're away right now. And then there's Alice's boyfriend, Japser."

Emmett is Esme's brother, Rose and Jasper are the in-laws. I blink at Edward, trying to digest this reshuffle amongst the Cullen household.

"That sounds like a houseful."

"It is."

"But you like being part of a big family?" I've always assumed, I've never actually asked.

He chuckles softly to himself. "Sometimes it's difficult. But I also know I'm lucky to have them."

"Do you ever..."

But I don't get to finish my next question. Edward turns away, shifting his gaze back to the party invitation, and I know it's his way of ending the conversation about his family.

He picks Alison's invitation up between his long fingers and studies it.

"What distressing costume will you wear?" he asks.

"I have no idea. I haven't even thought about it, yet. Any suggestions?"

He shakes his head, smiles, and puts the invitation down again.

"Tell me about _your_ holidays," he says. My mind does a quick mental shift as he changes the subject again. I measure my words carefully as I mention Charlie.

"Um, my dad's fairly traditional. But Renee is always trying for something different."

"Like what?"

"Well, one year she decided to have a minimalist Christmas."

Edward's eyebrows lift in surprise.

"What does a minimalist Christmas involve? Or, should I ask what it _doesn't _involve?"

I laugh at the qualification and tell him about the white painted bucket and the bare, white painted tree branch that sat in it, with the single white Christmas bauble hanging from the top.

"Doesn't sound very Christmasey," Edward chuckles.

"It wasn't," and I'm grinning, because hearing Edward Cullen say _Christmasey_ is gorgeous for some reason. I don't know why.

He reaches out now and gently nudges my little snowglobe with the knuckle of his index finger. We watch the flakes eddy and flutter at the bottom but they don't go anywhere.

"You've always lived in the sun," Edward murmurs.

"Mostly," I say truthfully.

"No white Christmases."

I don't answer.

"Phoenix and Florida...how do you find Portland?" He looks up at me. In this light, at this angle, he could be an angel.

"Portland's just fine."

One half of his mouth curves in a smile and he looks back at the snowglobe, nudging it again.

"Do you miss Florida?"

"Not really. I mean, I miss my mom, but I wasn't happy there."

"But you're happy here?" His eyes are back on me and I nod. "What about friends? Don't you miss them?"

"I had a couple of good friends in Florida, but it was all very loose and casual. They weren't the sort of friends..." I try to think how to explain. "They weren't the sort of friends you'd tell things to."

"Tell things to?" He cocks his head in that way he has...so familiar.

"You know, someone you can _really _talk to, about anything."

"Someone to tell your darkest secrets to," he teases.

"Exactly," I smile.

He studies me, eyes speculative now.

"You've kept secrets for others, I think." He speaks gently, softly, as though to himself, but his words stop my breath, I can't meet his eyes. _You've kept secrets for others... _For someone who can't read minds it's like he's looked inside my head and read me like a book.

I feel a shift in his mood. He picks up the spoon that lies on my plate and plays with it, watching it see-saw smoothly between his long fingers. His beautiful face creases softly into a new frown.

"Would you ever be friends with someone you probably shouldn't?"

My heart pounds in my chest, its sound fills the my ears, fills the room. Such a loaded question, but such a hopeful one. He's testing the waters, testing _me. _And I know this question, he's asked me one like it before, and this time I'm ready for it.

"I'd have to know why I probably shouldn't ."

The spoon stills. He lifts his eyes and looks directly into mine.

"If it was someone unsuitable? Someone dangerous?"

"I'd have to know what sort of danger."

He blinks at me, my response has surprised him.

"I would think danger means danger, however you look at it."

I shake my head. "There are degrees. And types. Like, some people think skydiving is dangerous, but other people do it for fun. You have to look at whether the danger is real or perceived. And there's a big difference between making a reckless choice and an informed decision. You'd need to tell me more before I could answer."

I've spoken quickly, I'm almost breathless and my heart is still pounding. I can see the thoughts racing behind Edward's gaze and I wish so much that I could read _his_ mind. I get a sense of the frustration he must feel, having had that ability and lost it.

"You should always make informed decisions," he says quietly, firmly. I get the feeling he's just made a decision of his own. My heart clenches and I wait for him to say I should stay away from him.

Suddenly he smiles, his posture relaxes. He taps a quick rhythm on the counter top with the spoon before putting it down.

"So you're saying you'd jump out of a plane, as long as you had the right equipment and the proper training?"

"Are you kidding? No! There's no way I'd parachute out of a plane, that is _definitely_ too dangerous!"

Edward laughs, it's a beautiful sound as he throws back his head and I'm grinning. My heart slows, my body relaxes.

"So no parachuting then?" he grins back at me.

"Definitely not."

"Very sensible," he nods.

He's still smiling as he drops his eyes and rubs his hands over the denim on his thighs. Slowly the smile fades.

"Bella, is there anyone who would mind me being here with you?" He lifts his eyes, looking at me through his lashes - he's apprehensive again. His fingers are splayed open over his thighs but they're digging in, I can see.

I bite my lip, my heart somersaults inside me.

"No, there's no-one."

His fingers relax and he nods.

"What about you?" I ask him. "Is there anyone who would mind _you_ being here?" I'm assuming the answer is no but I'm still relieved when he shakes his head.

"There's no-one."

I smile. So does he. My hands burn to touch him, hold him. I sit on them. Suddenly Edward looks away, his hands clench as he folds his arms across his chest.

"I should probably go," he says and stands up swiftly.

"Oh, really? You're sure?"

I get off my stool too but I'm not as smooth as him - my foot catches on the rung and I pitch forward. Instantly Edward has me by the elbow, supporting me; with his other hand he untangles the stool. When I'm standing securely on both feet he lets me go.

"Thanks," I mumble. It's the first time he's touched me, and even though it was through the sleeves of my jacket I can feel heat where his fingers have been.

"Are you alright?" he asks.

"Fine."

He smiles and turns to head for the door. In a moment he'll be gone.

"Before you go, I want to say thanks again, for my new birthday. And for the cake, and the snowglobe. Tonight was the best birthday I've ever had, Edward, I mean that."

Edward smiles down at me, it's a smile so tender I almost cry again. "You're very welcome," he whispers.

Then his hand is on the doorknob.

"I guess I'll see you around?" I shrug, trying to be casual but this feels too fast, I don't want him to go but I don't feel I can ask him again to stay. He opens the door. He's leaving.

"I'll see you around," he says. I want to ask when but I bite my lip - have some dignity, Bella. Let nature take its course.

Edward says goodnight quickly and I watch him disappear along the corridor and down the stairs.

When he's out of sight I shut the door and like last time I run to the window and watch for him, but tonight he's not there. There's a dark blue car parked down the street, towards the corner. I think it's his, but at this distance I can't be sure.

I wait.

One minute.

Five.

He doesn't appear and I wonder if he's been too quick for me and I've missed him. Or maybe he parked in the street behind my building.

I wait another minute then give up and collapse onto the sofa, hugging myself and grinning. He wants me to be happy. My happiness is important.

He gave me a new birthday.

Fresh tears burn.

Happy tears.

He has no idea what happened to me two years ago, he doesn't even know when my birthday is, but he did this _just to make me happy_. I look over to my half-eaten cake and my snowglobe and they are more precious to me than gold or diamonds.

I get up and walk over to my little snowglobe and pick it up, smiling as I shake it and watch the flakes tumble and swirl. The red bow is so pretty. It's soft and silky and has been beautifully, elaborately, tied but it unfolds easily as I tug on one end. I move to the shelves where my Phoenix snowglobe acts as a bookend to my cd's, and put my new addition down.

I put Portland next to Phoenix.

Snow next to sun.

Rose next to thorns.

It looks good, my little collection of snowglobes.

Then I pull the plain black elastic from my ponytail and tie the red ribbon in its place.

I think back over Edward's visit, replaying out conversation, his expressions...his questions. I feel hope bloom in my heart.

Hope.

The smile spreads wide across my face.

So perhaps this is what he's been doing since I saw him last - planning my new birthday.

I wonder if he's spoken to his family about me, I wonder if Alice had seen his plans in her visions. I've been so tempted to call her these past three days but I really need to let this happen naturally, without inside information, and she understands that too. So, as excited as I am right now, I won't be rushing to the phone to share my news. I don't think I would anyway, even if things were different, because tonight was personal, just between Edward and me. I reach up and touch the ribbon in my hair.

Tonight felt so new, we talked about things we'd never talked about before - I think again of the Cullen's at Christmas and Thanksgiving. And though the question of danger still raised it's head Edward's anguish didn't seem to be there. I was expecting him to tell me to stay away, or suggest that he was bad, but he didn't. Instead he wanted to know if I was seeing anybody. Well, that's how it seemed.

I hug myself again.

There's a knock at the door and I jump, stumbling backwards into the rocking chair.

I do a sort of hopping limp to the door, hoping it's Edward but knowing it' probably Mrs Upshot from down the hall. Lightning doesn't strike twice. And the Upshot cat goes missing regularly.

But tonight lightning _does_ strike twice.

It strikes bright and brilliant and when I open the door it _is _Edward, hair in his eyes, hands deep in his pockets.

"Me again," he smiles shyly.

"Hi."

"Hi."

More smiles.

But then his face becomes serious. He takes his hands from his pockets, clasps them behind his back.

"I was wondering," he takes a deep breath as he begins. "I was wondering, if you're not busy, Bella, would you come ice skating with me tomorrow night?"

There's anticipation in his face, he's squared his shoulders. I blink at him, absorbing his words.

"You're asking me out? On a date?"

"I...yes I am."

My heart leaps and cartwheels until I realise exactly what he's said.

"Ice skating?"

He nods, but inside me my heart has curled into a ball.

Ice skating.

Narrow steel blades on a slippery surface.

I'll make a fool of myself, no doubt hurt myself and probably somebody else. But I don't want to say no.

There's no way I'll say no.

But I've taken too long to answer and Edward smiles politely, bowing his head slightly as he takes a step back.

"But of course if you'd rather not..."

"No, it's not that!" I say quickly and reach out, not quite touching him. He stops and looks at me, the anticipation is back. "I'd like to go ice skating with you, Edward, very much. Thank you."

I'm rewarded with a dazzling crooked smile and for a moment I'm lost. I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. "Um, but I should tell you, I've never ice skated before. And you've seen how I can't even get off a stool. I'll probably..." I flail my arms about a bit, trying to give him the idea. "It won't be pretty. It could be dangerous. Not just for me."

There's the faintest quirk of his lips, he's trying not to laugh.

"Well, I could help you," he offers. "I'm a very good skater, and we can go to a late night session, there wouldn't be many people. We can keep the casualties to a minimum."

I smile at his joke, and his small boast. Though I've never heard him mention ice-skating before it doesn't surprise me at all that he's good.

"I won't let you fall, I promise." He smiles softly, his eyes are so sincere.

I smile back. "I trust you."

There's a flicker of some new expression on his face, but it's been and gone before I know what it is. My phone rings and my head turns automatically towards the sound. The ringtone tells me it's Renee and I let it go to voicemail.

When I turn back to Edward his lips are parted, his eyes are surprised but I watch as they soften - now his eyes are smiling.

"You're wearing the ribbon," he says quietly.

"Oh."

My hand goes to my ponytail and I pull it over my shoulder. The tail of red silk hangs down amongst the strands. Edward's eyes shift from the ribbon to my face and suddenly I feel shy.

"I thought it was pretty," I murmur.

He lifts his hand. I hold my breath as he reaches towards me and his long pale fingers touch the tip of the ribbon, then brush gently against a curl of my hair.

"Very pretty," he whispers. Then he slowly drops his hand. "Tomorrow, then," he smiles, and then he's gone.

-0- -0- -0- -0- -0- -0- -0-

**A/N: Sorry this chapter took so long. But, the next chapter is basically complete and should be posted before the end of the weekend :)**

**Thank you to Edward's Eternal for her beta prowess and friendship :)**

**And thank you for all your reviews and messages, they are appreciated more than I can say :) **

**The Keepsake made it into the Top Five for the Fic of the Week on The Lemonade Stand! That's incredible and I want to thank those who nominated and voted for me - your support means so much :)**

**Next chapter before the weekend is over :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**-0- -0- -0- -0- -0- -0 - -0- **

The Drum is quiet. I'm supposed to be arranging flyers artistically on the counter and cataloguing some new items in the data base but my mind is on tonight so I ask my friends for any ice-skating tips.

Amaranthe has never ice-skated.

Scott has been once. "Wear two pairs of socks," is his only advice. "It'll stop blisters."

But Alison thinks she's an expert because her aunt saw Torvill and Dean win a gold medal at the 1984 Winter Olympics, and Alison has watched the performance on video. Many times, it seems. She describes graceful spins and elegant twirls, dramatic leaps. None of it is relevant to my needs but she's so enthusiastic I don't have the heart to tell her that, or that I don't really know who Torvill and Dean are.

"Don't you just bend your knees and push off?" Scott asks.

Alison rolls her eyes. "Glide, not push." She looks around, checking for customers, but it's quiet right now. She turns back to me. "Come on, Bella, glide. Watch me."

She bends one knee and slides forward, repeating the action with her other leg until she's gone maybe a dozen feet. Her ballet flats slide over the vinyl flooring. I try too, I bend and push, but my rubber soled sneakers stick and grip so I do a clumsy stumble instead and fall on my knees.

I scramble up again as a customer comes through the door and the skating lesson is forgotten as the shop gets busy.

But even though no-one can give me any solid skating tips, they're all curious about my date. As we pack up at closing time I don't say much, just telling them his name is Edward and we go to the same college. Alison tells me to bring him to her party on Wednesday night. I tell her I'll mention it to him, but I don't know if I will.

When I get home I start trawling through my closet and soon my bed is covered in clothes as I try to decide what to wear. Wet denim is really uncomfortable, so jeans are out, especially if I spend as much time flat on the ice as I expect to. So I choose a pair of black leggings I hardly ever wear and I reach for the oversize flannel shirt that will come half-way to my knees. But then I stop. And put the flannel shirt back. I'd look like a lumber jack. A dumpy lumber jack.

In my drawer is a long, fitted, V-neck sweater of cream wool that reaches to my thighs. I bought it for last New Year's in New York, when I wore it over jeans and under a thick coat, and it's stayed in the drawer ever since. I pull it on now and it works well with the leggings but when I look at myself in the mirror my face flushes. I've regained most of the weight I lost when Edward left. In New York almost a year ago this sweater was roomy on me, but now it hugs me, you can see where I curve, and how much I curve, and even though I'm covered from top to toe, I feel as exposed as if I'm wearing a bikini. I bite my lip as I twist and turn in the mirror - I never wore anything like this when I lived in Forks. But I'm not in Forks now. I'm not at high school anymore. And I have to admit, as I examine my reflection, I look good. So with a deep breath I decide - the cream sweater it is. I tie my hair back with the red ribbon, and I'm ready.

But now I'm nervous as I wait for Edward to arrive.

I am determined not to sit gazing out the window, watching for him like a love-struck school girl. Instead I put away the clothes that scatter my bed.

When my phone rings I jump, startled. I wonder if it's Edward, changing our plans or cancelling, but it's Alice. She almost squeals down the line as I answer, then breaks into excited giggles.

"Don't tell me!" I say without any preamble. "Whatever you've seen, whatever he's told you, don't tell me!"

There's a pause as the giggles subside.

"I haven't seen anything," she says and I can hear she's still smiling. "The visions aren't like watching television, it's not like the scene selection option on a DVD." I smile at her analogy. "And anyway, I've told you that he's very hard to see since his accident. His mind is all over the place, all the time."

"So he's_ said_ something then? No, don't answer that!" But I'm dying to know. And when she doesn't deny that he's said something I decide it's confirmation that he has.

"So, did he say something about _me_?"

Silence. My heart picks up.

"What did he say?"

"Do you want me to tell you?"

"Yes."

"Well, we were in the..."

"Wait! No don't tell me." I scrunch my eyes shut as I laugh. "Alice, this sounds like a conversation from ninth grade."

"I've never been in the ninth grade, but I know what you mean."

And now we're both giggling.

"Lets talk about something else," I say, fighting temptation, and Alice launches into a description of Dior's new Spring season.

When I hang up ten minutes later I feel giddy with excitement...and it's not about hemlines and hats in deep shades of plum.

He's been talking about me. I grin and hug myself and look at the clock. Only ten minutes till he arrives.

This really feels like our first date. I know it_ is_ for Edward, but I really feel as if I'm getting to know him all over again. There is so much still to learn about him, so much I didn't think to ask before.

He's been talking about me. That has to be a good sign. But I still know I can't assume anything, I know how his mind works and the tide could turn at any time.

When I hear his knock on the door I straighten my clothes, grab my bag and my long jacket, and take some slow, deep breaths...

_Let nature take its course, Bella._

-0-

I open the door and there is Edward and I can't help the small gasp that tumbles over my lips. He's wearing a long, black overcoat over jeans and a dark, fitted sweater. The coat has obviously been tailored for him - it sits perfectly on his frame, accenting his height, the lean lines of his body and the set of his shoulders. In this coat, with his bronze hair windswept and hanging over his amber eyes, he is beyond gorgeous. My heart flutters in my chest, I feel the rush of colour to my cheeks. Now I'm so glad I'm wearing the fitted sweater and the leggings. And from the fleeting look of admiration I catch in Edward's face as his eyes move over me, I suspect he is glad too. I realise I'm standing straighter.

"You look very nice," he says, voice tight.

"Thank you," I smile. "So do you."

I turn my head and he catches sight of the red ribbon in my hair. He doesn't comment but the smile spreads wide across his face. And I smile back just as wide.

"Shall we go?" he asks. "If you're ready?"

And he offers me his arm as I pull the door closed.

-0-

We are mostly silent as we drive and Edward has soft music playing on the sound system.

When I ask he tells me the car is a Honda S2000 hardtop. It's seats are deep and comfortable and I smile as I sink deliciously into the leather. My eyes take everything in and though the car is new to me, so much is familiar - the few cd's in the console; the loose change; I know that in the glove compartment there will be two pairs of sunglasses and a pair of gloves to keep his hands from reflecting light if he drives in the sun. His satchel is tossed carelessly on the backseat.

There's a parking receipt from the airport sitting in the console and it shows today's date.

"You've been to the airport?" I ask, pointing at the receipt.

"I picked up Emmett and Rosalie earlier tonight," Edward answers.

"They're back?"

"Yes, but not for long. They fly out again on Tuesday night." He turns and smiles at me. "Told you they travel a lot."

Yeah, that is a lot.

"Where are they going on Tuesday?"

"Brazil."

"Brazil?" I can't keep the surprise out of my voice. Brazil? Where the sun shines all year round? "Um, is it a holiday?"

"Mm, something like that. Okay, we're here, are you ready?" he grins at me and I realise the engine is off, the car is parked, and we're sitting outside my first ever ice-skating rink.

"Not in the slightest," I groan and Edward laughs.

-0-

Edward was right, the ice rink is almost empty. And it's so big. Apart from a bald man skating solo there are only two other couples and the large expanse of glittering white ice is intimidating.

"Don't look so scared," Edward grins at me as he pays for our admission and skate hire.

"Not scared," I tell him. "Just...apprehensive."

He bends low and whispers, "I won't let you fall, remember?"

It's colder inside than I expected, though Edward tells me I'll warm up once I start moving. The floor is covered in black rubber and there are pools of icy water scattered here and there, shed from the blades of other skaters.

We go to a low bench beside the rink, close to one of the entry gates in the waist-high wall that surrounds it. Edward takes off his coat and underneath he's wearing a thin black sweater that fits him very nicely. He lays the coat across the bench, sits down and kicks off his shoes. I sit beside him, take off my jacket and my boots and pull on the extra pair of socks that Scott recommended.

The rental skates are made of heavy plastic and don't have laces, just two snap buckles that look similar to the ones on Renee's ski boots. I touch one of the silver blades. It's sharp and I pull my hand away quickly before I cut myself.

I watch Edward slide his skates on, adjust the buckles and stand, all in smooth, fluid movements. I try to do the same, I snap the buckles closed but I can't seem to get them tight enough.

"Would you like some help?" Edward asks. I nod and lift my leg, holding it in mid air for him, the buckles of my boot hanging open. He chuckles, takes my foot in his hand and rests it back on the rubber matting as he crouches down in front of me. He has one knee on the floor and his head is bent over my feet as his long fingers deftly adjust the buckles. His bronze hair hangs down as he works, he's so close, I want to pull my fingers through his hair and have to sit on my hands to stop myself. He shifts to the other foot, pulling it forward and giving it the same careful attention. Then he sits back on his heels and looks at me.

"How do they feel?"

I wriggle my toes and nod my head. "Feels good. Not too tight."

He smiles and makes to stand but as he moves out of his crouch overbalances on his skates. He drops back down, throwing his hands behind him for support and they land in one of the icy puddles. He gives me a sheepish grin and I wonder what brought that on. He never stumbles, he doesn't overbalance, but realisation dawns as he stands again, gracefully this time, rubs his palms over his thighs, then holds them out to me.

"They might be a bit cold," he smiles apologetically.

So was this why he suggested ice skating? So he could touch me? The thought is sweet and sad all at once.

"I don't mind the cold," I tell him softly.

His smile widens. "Come on," he says. "Up you get."

I put my hands in his, touching him, his skin, for the first time.

His icy touch sends fire racing through my veins, like I'm alight on the inside and my body is truly warm for the first time since he left me.

There is a sigh from Edward as his hands close slowly, gently around mine. The breath is too soft for me to hear, but I see it in the movement of his chest, the slow parting of his lips. He looks away, blinking, as he pulls me gently to my feet. He's biting his lip. His throat moves slowly.

"Feel okay?" he asks, turning back to me, and for a second I think he means his touch, but then I realise I'm wobbling in my boots. "Are they too loose?"

He bends quickly, one hand still on mine while the other runs a finger around the inside at the top of my boot.

"They don't feel too loose," he frowns, standing again.

"Um, yeah I think the boots are fine, it's me that's the problem."

He takes my other hand again, the heat surges through me once more. I look at the ice and the five other skaters who no doubt come to the late session so they're not bothered by beginners like me. Edward seems to understand. He bends low and speaks softly, his cool breath breezing over my skin.

"I won't let anything happen to you," he promises. Then he pulls back, jerks his head in the direction of the other skaters and smirks. "Or to them."

I roll my eyes and he chuckles.

"Come on, Bella, lets have some fun."

We move slowly, he is so careful as he helps me onto the rink, but as soon as I make contact with the ice my feet slide from under me and Edward grips my elbow firmly.

"Relax," he says. "Lean forward a little, bend your knees. Try not to lift your feet like you're walking up stairs." Because that is exactly what I'm doing, I look like I'm walking up stairs, or on the surface of the moon!

_Houston, we have a problem..._

"Lower your centre of gravity, Bella, lean forward a little bit when you push off. Try not to tense up, I won't let you fall."

He's so patient, holding one of my hands while I wave the other like a windmill as I try to keep my balance. My legs are sliding all over the place, I know I look like a cartoon character that's stepped on a banana peel. We keep trying, move barely twenty feet across the ice, and then Edward stops.

His lips twist as he thinks, his eyes look down to my waist.

"Maybe…" He lets go of one hand and moves his arm so it's hovering around my waist but not quite touching me. His amber eyes burn with uncertainty and gentle longing. "Would this be okay?"

"This would be okay," I whisper.

He nods, face serious as his arm encircles me slowly, _so slowly, _until he's holding me, pulling me carefully into his side.

Pressed against him, my whole body breathes a sigh of relief, like it's been tied in knots for two years and now the knots have unraveled and slipped undone; I pull in a deep, long breath. But though my body has relaxed, Edward's is tense. I keep very still.

"Um, perhaps if you put your arm around me too," he suggests, voice tight.

I don't have to be asked twice. I lift my arm and wind it around his waist. He stays very still and so do I. Then slowly, I feel him relax and he exhales a long breath.

"Ready?" he smiles down at me.

"Ready."

He's still smiling as he faces forward and pushes off.

"Remember, move your feet forward, not upward."

And suddenly I'm gliding, really gliding. My feet are just sort of slicing through the ice, this feels so easy with Edward guiding. I start to laugh and look up at him. He's beaming down at me, the breeze playing in his hair as we skate past the others, skate right around the rink...one lap, two laps, five, ten.

"See?" he tells me. "Easy."

He gets faster each lap, I laugh and giggle and when he spins me around I squeal out loud, my head thrown back.

"Having fun?" he wants to know as he watches me, laughing.

"Yes! Yes!" I laugh back as we spin, I watch the walls of the rink fly past, round and round.

"Keep going?"

"Yes!"

"More?" he teases.

"Yes! More!"

He changes tack, releasing my waist and taking my hands, and now he skates backwards, fast, pulling me with him in an elaborate pattern of twists and turns across the ice. My feet stumble a little to keep up but I don't fall. Then he lets go of one of my hands and he lifts me, high as he spins around. I squeal again and hear him laugh, and then see his beaming smile as he gracefully sets me back on my feet.

"Where..did you...learn to skate?" I pant as we stand together, holding hands, while I catch my breath.

"On a pond when I was eight."

I blink up at him, still breathless, realising this is a human memory.

"You learnt to spin and lift like this on a pond?"

"No. I learnt how to get up after falling over on the pond. The spinning and lifting came later."

I nod. I guess the 'later' was post 1918.

"So you were you as clumsy as me when you started?"

"Worse," he winks, and then he wraps his arm around me and we are skating again.

We skate and skate and after about another half an hour I feel I have the hang of it.

"I want to try on my own," I tell him. I half expect him to frown and suggest perhaps I shouldn't, but he doesn't. Instead he smiles, slowly unwinds his arm from around my waist and holds on to my hand.

"Let me know when you're ready to let go," he says.

I find my centre of gravity, and give Edward a nod. He lets go. I wobble, but he's still right beside me, hands at the ready if I need him. I push forward tentatively with one foot and my skate slides over the ice. I follow with my other foot and it slides too. I repeat the process, arms out like I'm trying to fly. Edward calls encouragement, he follows me slowly, giving me space as I move further and further away from him.

And I_ am _moving.

I'm actually skating. I'm clumsy and slow, I have no style whatsoever, but I'm moving. And it feels great.

Edward stands in the middle of the ice now, watching me proudly as I make my way around the edge of the rink, within grabbing distance of the wall should I need it. I do almost a whole lap on my own before I decide to skate back to him. I try to change direction, moving away from the edge to the centre, but I wobble and overbalance. I fumble and flail as I try unsuccessfully to regain my balance but my legs go from under me. It happens so fast, the ice looms up...crap, this is going to hurt!

But of course the crash never comes because suddenly I'm scooped into Edward's arms and he's holding me against his chest.

Breathless, I look up at him, into eyes that are wide and rapidly darkening as he holds me close.

"See?" he whispers. His breathing shallows, his gaze burns into mine. "See? I won't let you fall."

-0-

I pull my jacket tight around me as we walk back to Edward's car. My legs feel wobbly and strange now I'm walking in my normal shoes again. Edward has offered me his arm again and I hold onto him happily...and not just because my legs are like jelly.

Our moment when he stopped me falling is burned into my brain. The rush of fire through my body, the intensity in Edward's eyes, the feel of his hands, his arms...

I remember how he looked away over the top of my head as he released me slowly, and how he took my hand gently in his, and we skated slowly across the ice.

We skated three more laps of the rink before either of us spoke or even looked at the other, but the touch of our skin spoke volumes.

And when we did speak it was Edward offering to buy me a hot chocolate and me saying yes. Of course, the girl from the kiosk tried to flirt with him as she took his order but he barely looked at her. And I chuckled quietly to myself as I watched her attempt, knowing she didn't have a chance. If she had seen his dazzling smile as he presented me with my hot, watery beverage, she would have realised that.

Edward holds the door open for me as I climb into the passenger seat. He slides in behind the wheel, starts the engine, swivels around and rests one arm along the back of my seat as he looks over his shoulder to reverse out of the parking space. I know it's for show, but he doesn't know I'm used to him just reversing straight out without even a backwards glance.

As we head towards home he keeps the conversation light and neutral, though the tension from my almost-fall is still between us.

We talk about our classes. I bring him up to date with Henry the eighth and he tells me about visual phenomena and optical illusions.

"Optical illusions?" I blink at him in the darkness.

"By studying how the brain is fooled, it can show us how it works," he explains. "At least, that's the theory."

He takes one hand from the steering wheel, reaches over to the backseat and pulls a book from his satchel. My leather bookmark is poking out from the top. Edward removes it and places it in the console between us before he hands me the book. It's a psychology text.

"Chapter nine," he smiles. "Take a look. They're fun." He switches on the soft, overhead light so I can see.

I turn to chapter nine and look through the pages. I stare at a sketch of stairs that seem to spiral in on themselves.

"They're incredible," I murmur. "And this one of fish...or are they shoes?"

He's right, the illusions are fun and I study each page, commenting and laughing about the tricks they play, but my eyes keep flicking to the bookmark that sits between us. When I've finished looking at the illusions I pick the bookmark up.

"Was there any particular place you were marking?" I ask.

He looks at the bookmark in my hand, seemingly lost in thought for a moment before he frowns and shakes his head.

"No, it can go in anywhere."

I place the strip of leather on the open page but as I close the book I sense a subtle change in Edward's mood.

I watch his knuckles as his hand grips the gear stick, smoothly changing down through the gears as we come to stop at a red light. His other hand taps on the steering wheel, marking his agitation. I see the flexing of his thigh as he itches to accelerate.

The light goes green and he shifts into first gear. He accelerates faster than he has before, moving quickly through the gears, his hand almost a blur, as the engine whines to keep up. We're way past the speed limit now as we move through the dark streets. I grip the sides of the seat the way I used to in the Volvo and push myself back into the leather, bracing myself like I have so many times before. So he still drives like a maniac, then.

Suddenly, Edward seems to realise what he's doing. He shoots me a fast, sideways glance, and the car slows, the needle of the speedometer drops dramatically back to a more sedate 35.

"Sorry," he murmurs.

"It's okay. I'm used to fast cars." The words are out before I can stop them, and of course now Edward is curious...he loves cars. Whatever was bothering him about the bookmark is forgotten.

"Tell me. What type of cars?"

"Mm..." I stare out the window, gripped in panic. "I don't know, there's not much to tell, really."

I can feel his eyes on me, I know he can hear my heart racing.

"Perhaps another time, then," he says quietly. I turn and he's smiling gently. "I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable."

"You don't….you didn't. I feel…very comfortable with you."

There's a beat of silence and then Edward looks away. I look away too, trying to pull myself together after my slip-up.

"I noticed you have the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy books on your shelves," he changes the subject a moment later. I look up and he's smiling at me.

"Er, yeah, Douglas Addams is great. Have you read them too?" He's never mentioned reading them before.

"I have," he answers and a conversation about two-headed aliens and inter-galactic hitchhiking ensues. But too soon the car comes to a stop outside my building.

Edward turns to me, and though he's smiling I can see the sadness that echoes in his eyes. I wonder what's brought it on and I want desperately to reach out and touch him, touch my fingers to his cheek, his lips, I want to tell him not to be sad, everything will be alright...but I have to let him lead this.

My ponytail is hanging over my shoulder and he reaches out to touch the red ribbon, like he did last night. He smiles.

"I've kept you out very late, it's past midnight."

The dim lights from the dashboard illuminate his features, the shadows hollowing out his cheekbones and under his eyes. In this light his beauty really is supernatural, he does look like a vampire, until he gives me that crooked smile. And then he's just Edward again..._my _Edward.

"I had a great time tonight," I whisper.

"So did I."

I hand him back the book of illusions and he returns it to his satchel. I suppose this is goodnight and the already familiar feeling of _when will I see him again_ starts to churn in my gut. I hate that feeling, so I decide to do something about it.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" I ask and my question clearly surprises him.

"Tomorrow?" He rubs his hand over the back of his neck. "Why do you ask?"

My mind races as I sort through options and I remember the flyers I arranged on the counter at work.

"There's a jazz festival on the waterfront in Olympia this weekend."

"You like jazz?"

"Sure." _You introduced me to it, we sat in your room, with your head in my lap, listening to Duke Ellington and Dizzy Gillespie and Miles Davis. You taught me about blue notes and improvisation. I know the difference between swing and ragtime, cool jazz and jazz fusion... _

I can see him considering, he frowns as he looks down at his hands.

"That sounds good," he says eventually, lifting his eyes. "If you're sure?" And I breathe a sigh of relief - I hadn't even realised I was holding my breath.

"I'm sure."

"If I pick you up at ten?"

"Ten is fine."

I gather my bag. Edward opens his door so he can come and open mine. I scramble onto the footpath. We stand side by side and I wonder what happens now. Edward's eyes are so deep and serious as they stare at me - the pull is so strong and I'm sure he feels it, too, especially after the way he held me on the ice.

Instinctively, my lips part, so do his. I wait, very still. I think I feel him closing the space between us, but suddenly he takes a sharp breath in, pulls back and rakes his hand through his hair.

"It's late," he says. "I'd better go."

-0-

Of course sleep won't come. I lay in my bed, staring out the window, my mind and my heart full of tonight. Full of ice-skating and holding hands, arms around waists...spins and twirls and falling...intense eyes and heated touches. Hot chocolate. Illusions.

Fast cars.

I shudder at the slip I made.

How long before I make another slip? How long before I mention Charlie by name? Or make some unintentional reference about Forks? Even if he tells me the truth of who he is, I'll still have to pretend I haven't known him before. Even if he kisses me I'll have to act like I've never kissed him before.

I groan and pull at my quilt, bringing it closer around my ears as I snuggle down deep into the bed. It's like these thoughts are the monsters in my closet and pulling the covers up will keep me safe...but it doesn't work.

The monster thoughts come regardless.

How long can I go on lying to him before he becomes suspicious?

But I'm not lying, am I? I'm withholding information, that's not the same thing.

But I know in my heart it is.

And I know what Edward would think.

Tears start burning at the backs of my eyes and I blink them away.

Where do we go from here? With every step forward we take, it's a step further from the truth. I'm walking deeper into the lie with every touch and every smile. Or is it walking towards a new truth? I don't know.

And what if he discovers the lie? Will he hate me?

Or if he regains his memories?

What then?

I shudder again and pull the covers tighter. And I realise that while I used to wish that he would remember, now the thought scares me...and not just because he'd know that I've been lying.

It scares me because I like this Edward, I like how we are together, I like who I am when I'm with him.

Would that change if he remembered?

Would _he _change?

Would _I_?

I wonder what Edward is thinking, what he makes of it all. Am I still the new girl who's caught his attention, or are there flickers of memory? I wonder what he said to his family and what he is doing now. Is he outside watching my building? Is he running somewhere? At home in his room? Is he thinking of me now?

Would he be able to forgive me if he knew the truth?

It's all too hard. I give up and kick the covers off.

Sleep finally comes as the sky begins to lighten.

-0-

Olympia is lots of fun and today my dark thoughts are locked away, tight. I won't let them spoil this time with Edward...I won't.

The jazz is great and though the sky is overcast the waterfront is beautiful, and Edward is playful as he teases me about the dark circles under my eyes and how many times I've yawned.

"I really did keep you up too late, didn't I?" he smirks. "Maybe you should nap in the car on the way home."

I poke out my tongue and he laughs, flips the hood of my jacket over my face, then asks if I'd like a hot dog. He's been like this all day. He was wearing a beaming smile when I opened the door this morning and it's hardly left his face since. And though he hasn't held my hand we walk close, our arms brushing every now and then. When he speaks to me, or I to him, he lowers his head to bring his face closer to mine. When we move through crowds I feel his hand, resting lightly on the middle of my back, guiding me.

I'm sorry when the last band finishes and it's time to head home.

"We should do this again," I say without thinking as we climb into Edward's car. Immediately, Edward tenses, and though the smile is still on his face his jaw is tight.

"You'd like us to spend more time together?" he asks, voice low. He's not looking at me as he reverses out of the parking lot. I'm not sure how to answer, but I go with honesty.

"I would. Do you think...would you like that?"

My heart slows almost to a stop as I wait for him to answer.

"I would," he says slowly. He changes into top gear as we speed out of town. "But there are some things I should tell you first."

My heart stutters now, and starts pounding. I rub my hand over my chest, somehow thinking that might slow it down, or stop the noise.

"What things?" I whisper. Is he going to tell me now? Is this it? I'm excited that we've progressed so far, that he wants me to know who he is, but I don't know what to say, or how to react. I'm a terrible actress, he's told me that before. I swallow down the panic that grips me.

He gives a wry smile as the car picks up speed. It's going almost as fast as my heart.

"Remember our conversation about dangerous friends?"

Oh no...no... "Yes."

He looks over at me, his eyes are guarded now. "I'm not exactly a reckless choice, Bella, but I_ am_ an informed decision."

"Oh."

He looks back at the road, changes gear, and I feel some relief...an informed decision, we can work with that, I know we can. I wait to see if he's going to elaborate, but he doesn't.

"Are you going to inform me now?" I ask.

He shakes his head and smiles at me. "Today isn't the right time," he says, quite cryptically I think, and I wonder if it's because he doesn't want anything to spoil today, either. "But we do need to talk," he adds quietly. "Soon." Then he changes the subject and asks me to choose some music.

I select _The Chimes_ and he grins. We talk about _a capella_ music and his suggestion that he could be dangerous fades away but his need for us to talk soon lingers. At least I know it's coming...I can prepare. And, of course, I know I won't go running and screaming. I wish there was a way I could let him know that.

As we wind along the road I see a sign pointing to the Heritage Nature Reserve and Walking Trails.

"Alex has been there," I point at the sign. "He said the woods are really beautiful." Immediately Edward changes direction, taking the car down the rough road that leads into the reserve.

"Lets take a look," he smiles.

Yeah, he definitely wants today to last, too.

-0-

We are the only car in the gravelly parking lot. The surrounding woods are plentiful and green and three trails are sign posted. Two are long, all-day round trips, but one is very short, only an hour there and back to visit a look-out over a valley.

"Do you want to take a short walk?" Edward asks and I nod.

"I'd like that."

I'm reminded of our first walk to the meadow and even though the sky is grey and this walk is much shorter, I soon begin to feel warm.

"Looks like a clearing through there," Edward points through some trees away from the trail.

I can't see anything but then I don't have vampire eyes. "Would you like to take a look?" His face is almost eager, I know this is the sort of thing he likes.

There isn't a proper trail, but Edward goes ahead of me, holding branches out of the way, making my passage easier.

It's darker through here, shadier, but I can feel the thin film of sweat forming on the back of my neck. I take off my jacket and tie it around my waist.

I follow Edward through the trees, squinting my eyes, trying to see any sign of this clearing he's mentioned, but it's just trees and more trees, until...

"Here!" he says triumphantly. We come out of the trees into a space maybe the size of two basketball courts. It's much smaller than the meadow and there are no wild flowers, but its grass is green and lush and it has a wild sort of beauty all its own.

"How could you know this was here?" I ask. I know how, of course, but I'm still amazed, just the same.

Edward simply shrugs.

"Your face is pink," he smiles.

My hands fly to my cheeks and I roll my eyes. "I can imagine."

He chuckles as I fan my face and blow some stray hair out of my eyes. I push the sleeves of my sweater up to my elbows as I look around, hands on my hips.

"This is really lovely, Edward."

I'm smiling, and though I find it curious that we seem to have ended up in a meadow again, I realise it makes sense if this is the sort of thing he likes, the sort of thing he looks for. I turn in a slow circle, looking at the trees, drinking in the peace, appreciating _now,_ and not thinking about conversations that still need to happen.

But as I turn back to Edward the peace is quickly shattered.

He's staring at me like he's never seen me before; his teeth are clenched and bared, his body is rigid, the cords of his neck stand out and his eyes are wide and black. I feel a sharp stab of fear but before I can even ask what's wrong he snatches up my arm and stares at the crescent-shaped scar high up on my wrist.

"How did you get this?" he hisses.

**A/N: Mmmmm... *ducks head under the covers and peeks out warily* Yes, I did leave it there. I will get the next chapter up as soon as I'm able, promise. **

**Your reviews and feedback amaze me, thank you all so much. And thank you to Edward's Eternal for being such a speedy beta (and for cheeky emails).**

***pulls covers back over head and runs***


	8. Chapter 8

**Dislaimer: All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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I am paralysed with panic.

Edward glares at the scar on my wrist. His thumb trembles as it traces softly over the marred skin.

He _knows_ what this is. He _knows_ this is the mark of another vampire.

He's on alert.

His instincts have kicked in.

I watch his lip curl back slowly over his teeth.

I want to pull my arm away, try to hide the evidence, but I can't. Though Edward's grip isn't hard, it's fast.

His touch is icy. He lifts his gaze and his black eyes glare. He's angry. At me? At who left this mark? I can't tell.

"How did it happen?" he asks. His eyes are hypnotic, holding me, I can't look away, can't move, I can barely breathe.

But my mind races.

What do I say? What do I do? I can't lie, he'll see through it..._he knows what this is._ Where is Alice right now? Has she seen this? Does she know? My heart is pounding in my chest, it's beat thunders in my ears. I pray for my phone to ring, for her or Carlisle to call me...but my phone stays silent.

"How?" Edward asks again. His voice is so soft, so low...there's no menace, but there is..._something._

He is waiting for an answer. Do I tell him the scar has always been there and I can't remember how I got it?

Suddenly his eyes flare, he lets go of my arm carefully and steps back slowly, away from me.

"You didn't offer me cake," he murmurs. His cryptic statement throws me for a second, but understanding comes quickly…he's talking about the birthday cake he bought me... _he's just realised that I know what he is. _

My stomach drops like a rock and my heart falls with it. It wasn't supposed to happen like this...he was supposed to tell me himself, when he was ready.

"Edward, I'm so sorry…" I pull down my sleeve quickly and step towards him but he holds up his hands, keeping me at bay and I stop, rocking back on my heels. His face, oh dear Lord, his anguished face...

"You know what I am," he whispers. "You've known all along. Every time we've talked, every moment I've been with you…"

I can't deny it. He knows.

"Yes. Edward, I'm sorry..."

Suddenly his face is cold, unreadable. Oh, what is going through his mind right now as he stares at me? Panic, barely-suppressed, crawls over my skin. I try to guess at his thoughts, try to imagine what he's feeling. I bite my lip against tears as I realise I'm no longer the girl he took ice-skating. I'm not the girl with the red ribbon in her hair...now I'm the human who could expose him.

I'm a danger. A threat.

But I want to be the girl with the red ribbon again. I want to go back to the jazz festival. I want him to flick my hood over my face and buy me a hotdog. Five minutes ago he was laughing, telling me my cheeks were pink.

I want him to tell me jokes.

He tilts his head, takes a couple of slow steps around me. I move too, turning on the spot, following him, watching him as he watches me. My heart is slamming against my ribs. What do I say now? Do I tell him everything? Who I am and what we meant to each other? Or do I lie and tell him it's a coincidence that I've encountered two vampires in my life? I try to gauge his state of mind but it's impossible.

I have never seen Edward more like a vampire than right now...his posture, his face, his voice. His eyes.

He takes some more steps, circling me slowly.

"You know what I am, and you've encountered my kind before." His eyes slide quickly to my hand that is poking out of my sleeve, then back to my face. "You've been bitten, but you're still human. You're still alive."

Slowly he tilts his head to the other side.

I begin to shake and wrap my arms around myself, holding myself together because right now I feel like I am going to fall apart. I don't know what to do. How much do I tell him? His eyes drift to my hand again.

"That bite wasn't meant to kill you, it was to change you. But the change didn't work…" Edward's voice trails off and now I stare with my mouth open and watch, horrified, as betrayal flashes vividly through his eyes.

"That's what you want from me..." he hisses. "Your first attempt failed so you want to try again, for immortality."

"NO!" I cry, reaching for him. He thinks I've been using him? The thought is unbearable. "No, it's not that! Edward, no..." And now the truth comes rushing out, I'm almost incoherent in my desperation to explain. "I was attacked, bitten...but the...the venom was sucked out...by you."

He takes a sharp step backward. His eyes blaze with new, raw shock. A very long moment passes and neither of us is breathing. I wait. And wait. And wait, taking my cues from him.

"You know me?" he finally whispers.

"Yes."

My heart is almost deafening as it pounds. I watch the shock leave Edward's face as the shutters come down, fast. He's locked me out.

"Then you have me at a disadvantage." His voice is clipped and sharp. "I'm afraid I don't understand."

Though he's very still his hands fist over and over at his sides and I know right now this is agony for him. I gulp some breaths. My chest hurts, I think my heart has pounded out a life's worth of beats in these last ten minutes. I just want to go back in time, but I can't, and now I've started telling the truth I have to keep going.

"I knew you…we knew each other…in Forks."

"Forks?" The façade slips a little, his eyes widen fractionally.

I nod and try smiling but my mouth is dry and my lips stick against my teeth. I swallow and try again.

"We met at high school. We, um, dated."

I know 'dated' doesn't even cover it, but it will have to do for now. I hold up my scarred wrist.

"This was from another vampire, a nomad, passing through. He bit me, but you sucked the venom out to save me. Alice, Jasper and Emmett killed him."

His mouth drops open...and the facade shatters.

"This is true?" he gasps.

"Yes."

His hands fly to his head, fisting in his hair as he gapes at me and I know his whole world has just been pulled out from under him. I want to hold him so badly, but I shift from foot to foot, twisting my fingers and biting my lip.

"Why didn't you say something?" he gasps. There's devastation in his face and anguish in is voice.. "Why didn't you tell me….?"

I start to cry. "I wanted to, I really did, but…"

"But what?"

"But Carlisle told me it could do you more harm than good. Edward I'm so sorry…"

It's like I've slapped him across the face. He blanches, his pale face becomes ashen.

"Carlisle spoke to you? When was this?"

I wipe my arm across my face to try and soak up the tears.

"That first night I saw you. When I got back home from the library. He and Alice came…"

"Alice too?"

"She saw…"

He waves his hand sharply, cutting off the rest of my explanation. He shakes his head and drops it into his hands.

There's a horrible, heavy silence, I can't bear it - I don't know what to do, but I've started talking so I keep going - he needs to know.

He's been lied to long enough.

"They told me about Victoria and what happened in the woods and how you'd lost part of your memory. And your mind reading…"

His head snaps up. He's glaring at me and I stop. Crap, have I said too much? Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned the mind-reading.

When I don't say anything more he gives a slow nod of his head.

"Go on," he murmurs. "Tell me what they told you." His glare is icy.

"They…they told me that you'd shut me out. Carlisle thinks the memories were too painful so you just locked away anything to do with me. He thinks that explains the mind reading too – you didn't want to see me in other people's thoughts. He thinks it was a type of self-preservation."

His eyes stay on me. He's trying to process all this, trying to take this in and now the facade is back. I can't keep up with him, I feel like I'm teetering on a cliff top wondering if I'm going to fall or not.

"So you were important to me," he says after a moment. His words are slow and measured, as though he's weighing each one before he speaks. "Important enough that I formed an attachment to you, but my family decided I didn't need to be reminded of that. I didn't need to know."

"No, Edward, it wasn't like that," I try to convince him. "They were worried, you'd been through so much and they were worried it would hurt you all over again if they told you. Carlisle said you had to remember in your own time…when your subconscious was ready to handle it."

"Handle what, exactly?"

"Me…our break-up. It was a bad one."

He blinks, it's a small chink in his armour, but then his face is like stone again. Oh, Edward,_ please let me in. _

My legs feel weak and wobbly, I want to sit down before I fall down, but somehow I stay standing.

"Carlisle meant well," I continue. "He thought not telling you was for the best."

"The best? The _best?_" Edward is incredulous. He actually laughs, it's a harsh sound, and he takes some more steps, turning away from and then whirling back again sharply.

"Oh, believe me, Bella, I can think of a lot of things better than being lied to by people I trust. Better than being kept in the dark about _my own life_!"

"But his intentions were…"

"Good? His intentions were good? Is that what you were going to say?" He's yelling now, stalking back and forth as he speaks.

"Edward…"

"So the lies were for my_ benefit_ were they?" He turns sharply, glaring, his mouth curved in a mocking smile. "_For my own good_?"

"Edward…"

"You all thought you knew what was best for me?"

"Edward…"

"So you've all been watching me fumble and fight my way through feelings I thought were new, but apparently were not."

_Oh, Edward..._

Hot tears burn over my cheeks. "Edward, I'm so sorry. Nobody wanted to hurt you, everyone thought..."

"Everyone thought they'd lie to me!"

Oh, this is too much for him. The betrayal in his face and his voice slices through my heart. He's beyond hurt...this has shattered him.

I hold out my hands to him.

"Edward, I'm sorry, so sorry, but please, you can't..."

"DON'T TELL ME WHAT I CAN'T DO!" he roars. I stumble back. I've heard him yell before, but never like this. "I_ know_ _exactly_ what I can't do," he hisses now. "I can't read minds…and_ I can't remember_!"

I can't bear to see him like this, in so much pain. My tears come freely. He groans and drops his head into his hands. I reach for him, but my arms fall empty to my sides.

"I thought..." he whispers as he lifts his eyes. "I thought you...we...I thought maybe..." He shakes his head and my tears become sobs at his devastation. "But you've been _lying _to me all along..." His voice breaks. He closes his eyes and drags his hands through his hair again. And then, swiftly, his posture changes again and his voice is hard as his eyes look squarely into mine.

"So tell me, have I repeated myself, Bella? Have we had the Christmas conversation before?"

"No. Edward, please..."

"Have we already discussed Douglas Adams? How many jazz festivals have we been to?"

"Please listen..."

"How many times did I take you ice-skating?"

"Edward..."

"Did you snicker quietly to yourself last night when I pretended to fall so I got my hands wet?"

"No...!"

"Did you call my family and report in after I said goodnight...?"

"No...stop it, Edward...!"

"Did I ..."

"NO! STOP IT, EDWARD! JUST STOP!"

My outburst surprises us both, and Edward stops.

"It wasn't like that!" I yell at him, waving my arms at him. Suddenly, all the stress of the last few weeks, maybe the last two years, comes pouring out and _I'm_ stalking towards_ him_ as he backs away, stunned.

"All those things were firsts! _All of them_! And I never reported in to anyone, I deliberately kept my distance! And okay, I lied, your family lied, but it was never to hurt you! No-one sat around trying to think up ways to upset you! Sometimes people lie because they think the truth is too painful, sometimes they believe the lie is the better option. You should know, you've done it yourself!"

He blanches. "What are you talking about?" He stops backing away.

"You!" I point with a sharp jab towards his chest. "When we broke up! You thought you were too dangerous to be around and you lied so I'd let you go! You told me I wasn't good for you. You played on my insecurities, you said I'd been a distraction!" I'm still yelling, I'm on an angry roll but I'm not sure now if I'm angry with Edward, or myself, or his family for choosing to keep him in the dark. I don't know if this is about now in Portland, or two years ago in Forks. He stares at me, shocked anew.

"I don't...I..." His eyes are wide and frantic, he stumbles for words. My anger begins to dull in the face of his confusion. I heave a deep breath and shake my head.

"You don't remember, I know," I say more calmly, panting now from my outburst. "But Edward, you lied to me because you thought it was best and I believed what you said and I've believed it for more than two years. My life has revolved around your lie and it wasn't till a few weeks ago Alice told me the truth." I pause for more breath. "I don't like what you did, but I kind of understand why you did it. You thought you were protecting me. Carlisle, your family, all thought they were protecting _you._"

He's glaring again, and his breathing is fast and shallow. I wipe my hand over my face, sniffing back tears. I feel older than Edward right now. Older than Carlisle, even.

Suddenly Edward turns and stalks away across the clearing, into the woods.

"Edward!" I call and run a few steps after him, but then I stop. I know I won't catch him - he won't let me. He needs time and space. He needs to digest this. And so do I. I drop onto the ground and hug my knees and don't care about the damp seeping through my jeans.

I don't know how long I sit - it feels like many hours but it's probably no more than fifteen minutes. My breathing calms and my heart slows but I feel broken and bruised. I wonder what will happen now, if Edward will ever forgive me, or his family. I wonder if Carlisle will be angry with me. What if he was right, and telling Edward the truth does more harm than good. What if Edward never gets over this...the betrayal and the lies.

I can't even think about it.

I don't hear Edward return but suddenly he's beside me, sitting on the grass, mirroring my pose with his knees pulled up tight.

His eyes are not so dark now, but they're sad. He's so lost and I just want to hold him but I know I can't. He won't let me, not yet. I wonder if he ever will.

"I apologise for my behaviour," he says calmly. "I hope I didn't scare you."

I shake my head slowly, trying to assess his mood. He's coolly polite, and I don't like it.

"No, you didn't scare me. And I'm sorry too, Edward, so sorry..."

He nods and looks away towards the trees. "So you're Chief Swan's daughter?"

"Yes."

He nods again.

"Will you tell me everything?" he asks gently. "From the beginning? Please?"

He doesn't look at me as I begin. As I speak I wonder about the wisdom of what I'm doing, but what else can I do? I've already told him the basics...and I think again that the truth has been kept from him long enough.

So I talk. And he listens, still staring at the trees. I start with the cafeteria on my first day, how he couldn't read my mind. I tell him about biology and my wrecking-ball scent, his black eyes and how he'd looked at me like he hated me. I tell him about Tyler's van, the blood typing, Jacob's scary story, Port Angeles and the meadow...

I tell him everything...baseball, James and Victoria and Laurent, Phoenix, prom.

The sky begins to darken. Edward stays silent, knees still hugged to his chest. He doesn't move, just stares at the trees and never speaks. He's so still it's unnerving...only the occasional clench of his jaw tells me he's real and listening and I begin to watch for that subtle roll of muscles beneath his skin. I expected him to ask questions, maybe even yell some more, but not this. Not this unnatural calm, not this uneasy quiet.

I move on to our perfect summer...the picnics, the walks, going to movies, listening to music in his room. The drives to Seattle to see exhibitions and concerts. The day he picked flowers for me.

I move on to my birthday. The party, the paper cut. Jasper's attack. I tell him about the walk in the woods, his words, his lie. The missing birthday gifts.

Still, Edward doesn't speak, doesn't react, doesn't move, except for the subtle clench and flex of his jaw.

I end with the wolf pack, and Victoria. My voice is hoarse from talking.

"That's about it," I whisper. "Until I saw you outside the library."

After the heaviness of his silence the sound of Edward's voice startles me.

"Bella, that bookmark...is it yours?"

"Er, yes."

He gives one small nod towards the trees, but that is all.

The sky is dark now, there are stars twinkling silver against the black - it would be pretty on any other night.

Edward turns his head slowly and looks at me at last, but in the dark I can't read his eyes or his expression clearly. I wait, hoping he'll say something...anything.

"It's as though you're telling me about characters in a book, or a film," he says softly. "I don't know who they are, they might not even be real."

Oh, Edward...

My eyes burn and so does my heart.

"They're real," I whisper.

He unfolds from his defensive posture slowly and sighs, sitting cross-legged now as he watches me, his hands are loose fists in his lap.

"Were you ever going to tell me?" he asks. His voice is calm, but it doesn't tell me anything. He could be asking about the weather.

"Carlisle wanted you to remember on your own, but I know I couldn't have lied to you much longer. It never felt like I was doing the right thing. It's been...difficult."

"You slipped last night didn't you? The fast cars you spoke about...that was me."

"Yes."

His hair has flopped over his eyes. I watch his long fingers push it out of the way and wish I could do it for him. The hair falls straight back again when he tilts his head.

"Bella, if you were exposed to such danger with me, if I treated you so badly, why would you want to be with me again?"

My answer falls simply and honestly from my lips.

"Because I love you. I never stopped. I never will. And I was hoping we'd have another chance."

He stares at me and it's like he hasn't understood what I've said. New pain, raw and real, shoots through me. In the darkness it's so hard to read his eyes.

I reach over to touch him. My fingers brush gently over his and he doesn't pull away, and that's good, but he doesn't respond either. His skin is cold, his hand is still. I withdraw and hug my knees again.

"Come on, we'd better go," he says suddenly and stands before I've had time to blink. He holds out his hand and helps me to my feet. My legs feel wobbly but once I'm steady Edward lets go. He shoves his hands in his pockets and walks.

As we head back to the car he holds branches for me, he helps me over tree roots and fallen logs, but he never speaks. Though his face is calm his pain is almost tangible, but I don't know what to say or do.

The drive home is silent too. Edward doesn't turn the music on. He speeds. His hands curl tight around the steering wheel and the gearstick, gripping them till his knuckles almost poke through his skin, and it is this that belies the smooth, impassive expression.

But I can't sit still. I fidget in my seat and bite my nails. I tuck my hair behind my ears and my leg jiggles and bounces. I wonder if this is the end, if he's been hurt too much to try again.

I feel hollow as we pull up outside my building.

Edward reaches behind to the back seat, to his satchel that still lies there.

"Here," he says and holds out my bookmark. "I've had it long enough."

My heart crashes. "Edward, no..." I whisper hoarsely. But when I refuse to take it from him he just slips it into the pocket of my jacket. Then he opens his door and comes to open mine. I'm shaking as he helps me onto the footpath.

"I'm very sorry the afternoon has ended this way," he says. "But thank you for telling me the truth."

"Oh, Edward, I'm sorry too."

He nods and looks away. He's so hurt, so angry still, I can feel it, it's like a wall between us.

"Please don't go. Come in and we'll talk...please..."

"I don't think I'd be very good company right now," he answers. "But thank you for the offer. Perhaps another time."

My head drops and defeat washes over me like a wave, pulling me under.

"Edward, this doesn't have to end badly. I've told you how I feel, and if you still have feelings for me too then I know we can work through this."

He's silent, watching me and I hope he's considering my words. In the ghostly glow from the street light he looks a little unreal.

"What will you do now?" I ask and he lets out a long breath.

"Right now I'm going to talk to my family, and after that..." He shrugs. "I don't know."

He gives me a sad, wistful smile and suddenly his eyes are the most tender I've seen since I pushed up my sleeves in the woods. He lifts his hand and the backs of his knuckles just barely graze my cheek.

"I am so very sorry I hurt you, Bella. More sorry than you will ever know."

My tears begin again and I reach up to touch his face too, but he swiftly takes his fingers from my cheek and is suddenly walking back to the car. My hand is still in mid-air as he climbs into his seat and as he drives out of sight I wonder if this is nature taking its course.

And then I remember that sometimes nature can be cruel.

**A/N: Thank you all for the amazing support this story is receiving, for your reviews and feedback, I appreciate it all so much :)**

**Next chapter...coming right up...**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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**Five minutes later...**

**In his car on the way to the Cullen house on the outskirts of Portland...**

**Edward's Point of View**

Edward slammed the car into fifth gear. The engine whined but Edward was unforgiving. He pushed the Honda harder, shifting back down through the gears again as he approached the turnoff that led to his family's home, buried deep in the woods on the outskirts of town.

They'd lied to him.

All of them.

Even her.

Even Bella.

His hand moved fast, his feet were a perfect synchronised blur on the pedals...

_...clutch**,** shift, gas._

That scar.

He wanted to kill the vampire that gave her that scar, but apparently his siblings had already done that.

_Clutch, shift, gas._

All his instincts had kicked in when he'd seen the mark on her skin...protect, defend, attack.

As he'd instinctively bared his teeth he'd been worried he might have scared her.

He shook his head now - he needn't have been so concerned, as it turned out.

_Clutch, shift, gas._

The engine whined louder. The needle of the speedometer moved into the red zone.

They'd lied to him.

All of them.

Even Bella.

He'd poured his heart out to Esme. Two nights ago he'd talked to his family, told them about the human girl who had captured his interest, and possibly his heart. He thought they should know, after all, it affected them too.

He had had the courtesy to _share._

And last night, after ice-skating, when the_ possibly_ became _definitely_ and he knew his heart was well and truly hers, he'd spoken to Carlisle privately. He'd wanted advice on telling Bella the truth about who he was. But of course, he didn't need to tell her the truth at all, did he?

She already knew.

It was him, Edward, who was in the dark.

_Clutch, shift, gas._

Ahead a truck was travelling too slowly. Edward floored the Honda and only a second later the truck was behind him, not even in a dot in the rear vision mirror.

_Clutch, shift, gas._

He wondered what she would have said if he'd had the chance to tell her. Would she have pretended surprise? Feigned shock? Would she have accepted him calmly and told him it didn't matter?

The most important person in his world, and his family would have let him base their relationship on a lie.

_Clutch, shift, gas._

The tyres squealed and smoked as he took a bend.

He felt so foolish now. He felt like the brunt of a cruel joke.

He'd thought his feelings were his, just his, but they belonged to everyone.

The secret hopes he'd carried these last few days were old news it seemed - discussed and analysed by those around him.

_Clutch, shift, gas._

Anger and hurt and betrayal pounded through his dead veins.

This wouldn't have happened if he'd been able to read their minds.

_Clutch, shift, gas._

He took another bend, spraying dirt and gravel in a perfect arc behind him.

They'd lied to him.

But he had lied too. Or so Bella said. Could he believe her? Could he believe any of them?

She said she loved him.

Two hours ago he would have swept her into his arms and shouted his joy for the world to hear.

He would have told her he loved her too.

_Clutch, shift, gas._

How?

How could she love him still after all he'd put her through.

After he'd lied to her, hurt her.

_Clutch, shift, gas._

It had been like listening to a story about someone he didn't know. Some cruel bastard who tore out Bella's heart and shredded it in front of her eyes. He didn't know who that person was, he couldn't feel what they had felt. He couldn't understand how anyone...how _he_...could have done that.

He wasn't the man he'd thought he was.

_Nothing _was what he thought it was.

His whole world view had changed.

Everything had changed.

_Clutch, shift, gas._

Edward's chest burned like he was aflame on the inside. He rubbed his fist hard over his chest but it brought no relief.

He'd felt so little for so long...and now he felt so much.

_Clutch, shift, gas._

Jasper had tried to kill her. Then he, Edward, had almost ruined her life.

He cringed now as he thought of the chocolate cake and the snow globe. How could that make up for what he and his family had done?

_Clutch, shift, gas._

Rain spattered over the windscreen.

The tyres tried to slide over the slick road but Edward held fast.

He was in control as he slammed down a gear.

Control.

He needed control.

But they'd taken it from him.

_Clutch, shift, gas._

She'd talked about a summer they'd shared. Picnics and movies and concerts and walks.

The future he'd hoped for was already part of his past.

_Clutch, shift, gas._

He was so angry. So hurt. The shock of realising she'd known him before was like nothing he'd ever felt. Or ever _remembered _feeling.

Her admission had derailed him, he'd been blindsided and lost.

Her story left him floundering, trying to find something to cling to, but there was nothing.

It was like his deepest part of his heart had been exposed and put on display.

_Clutch, shift, gas._

He had walked away from her, into those woods, needing to find some sort of control. Some sort of understanding.

He had wanted to run, but he stayed close in case she needed him. He wouldn't leave her alone there.

His feelings had confused him - he was all at once protective of her, but so hurt by her lies.

And angry.

So angry.

He had smashed his fist into a tree, over and over, as he'd grieved for what he'd lost.

Not just the memories, but the chance to tell her gently who he was.

The chance to open up to her, to offer her something he'd never offered before...

...his love.

He grieved again now as the car screamed through hair-pin bends.

_Clutch, shift, gas._

Some offering.

_Clutch, shift, gas._ His hand and feet blurred as they worked the gears.

She'd known.

_Clutch, shift, gas._

They'd all known.

_Clutch, shift, gas._

Part of him had been missing and they'd kept it from him.

_Clutch, shift, gas._

The speedometer needle had gone as far as it would go. The car began to shake. Edward lifted his foot off the gas. When the needle began to drop back he slammed it down again.

_Clutch, shift, gas._

The road straightened out again.

He remembered how it had been after Victoria was dead. He'd opened his eyes to his family's anxious faces and silent minds. He'd grabbed at Carlisle, frantically...

"Why can't I hear you?" he had yelled. "Why can't I hear you?"

There had been anger then too. Anger and rage and frustration.

Paranoia.

It had gone on for months, he'd felt less, broken...wrong.

The lost memories didn't bother him - Forks was not even a blip on his radar.

He'd thought it was his missing gift that had him so distraught - he wondered now if it was really Bella he was missing

_Clutch, shift, gas._

The golden, gifted first-born son was gifted no more.

They could lie to him now.

They _had _lied to him.

In the months after his accident they had walked around on egg-shells, treated him like he was made of glass. Treated him like there was something wrong with him.

Don't upset Edward.

_Don't tell him the truth. _

Only Kate had treated him like he was normal.

Kate.

He had almost...

He slammed his foot down again.

_Clutch, shift, gas._

The car swept into the driveway. It roared along the gravel, swerving to a hand-brake stop and sending stones flying.

On the wide porch of the grand two-storey house Edward's family had begun to gather. Carlisle, Alice and Esme.

Alice had obviously seen what happened, or perhaps Bella had called - Edward didn't know. He got out of the car and slammed the door.

"Edward..." Carlisle began, holding up his hands for calm.

"You lied to me..." Edward growled. "And you made _her _lie to me!" He stalked towards the house, his head snapped towards Alice. "You saw? You saw what happened this afternoon?"

She nodded slowly, her hands at her mouth, eyes wide and fearful.

"Edward I'm so sorry..."

"Are you?" he snapped.

Carlisle stepped forward. "Edward, son, I understand..."

The screen door opened and Jasper appeared. In one blinding move Edward sprang, lunging for Jasper, crashing him into the wall of the house and pinning him there, his forearm across Jasper's throat. The house groaned and shook. Wood and plaster crumbled around them as Alice screamed, she hadn't seen this coming. Esme cried out...

"Edward, no!"

Jasper didn't fight back, he hung his head and accepted Edward's wrath. Alice hung off Edward's arm, Carlisle grabbed the other, but Edward's anger had made him strong.

"A paper cut!" Edward snarled into his brother's face. "You tried to kill her over a _fucking paper cut_!"

Emmett and Rose came running from inside and Emmett pulled Alice aside as he wrapped his hand around Edward's arm.

But now Edward shook off his father and brother. He stepped back, holding up his hands and backing away down the steps of the porch. Alice rushed to her husband but Jasper shook his head, he didn't want her to fuss.

"It's okay," he soothed her.

Down on the lawn Edward watched them...his family and their anxious faces. Their betrayal of his trust twisted and burned inside him.

"Edward..." Carlisle made to move off the porch but Edward took another step back. Carlisle stopped.

"Son, I promise you, we never wanted to hurt you. At the time we thought..._I _thought..."

"It was for _the best_..." Edward interrupted sharply, contempt in every word. "You thought you would make that decision for me? You thought something as important as this, as important as...as _her, Bella_...should be kept from me?" He shook his head, pulling his hands through his hair as he took some more steps backwards. "Do you still think it's for the best, now?"

Carlisle bowed his head but didn't answer. There was nothing he could say, not right now.

"Edward, please, come inside and talk." Esme implored. She held out her hand but Edward shook his head. He couldn't. It was too soon. The shock and the hurt were too fresh.

"Is there anything else I should know?" he asked and Carlisle winced at the bitterness in his son's voice.

"No." Alice answered, biting her lip. "I'm so sorry, Edward."

He nodded sharply, turned and got back in his car.

"Edward!" Esme called out to him but he was already roaring back down the driveway.

**-0- -0- -0- -0- -0- **

**That same night... In Bella's apartment...**

**Bella's Point of View**

I'm not sure how long I cry, but it feels like forever.

Curled up in the middle of my bed, clutching my pillow to my chest, I wonder if there will ever be a time I don't cry over Edward Cullen.

Will I ever be done?

Will there ever come a day when I say this is enough now?

My heart says no, but my mind says I might have to accept that we were never meant to be. Maybe we'll never get past what we are. But then I remember that tonight wasn't about him being a vampire and me being human; it was about the lie.

I groan and squeeze the pillow tight.

His face...His anguished, angonised face.

And then his cold, impassive eyes.

His hurt. His anger.

The quiet fury that I know was brewing beneath the calm.

My body shudders.

My bedside clock ticks, marking the minutes since Edward drove away.

When I hear the knock at the door I instantly think it's him..._hope_ it's him.

But it's not.

It's Alice and Carlisle standing on my doorstep. Their beautiful faces are drawn and sad. Carlisle almost looks haggard. I'm not sure how I feel about seeing them, part of me is angry - they've brought this upon us all; part of me wants to hug them - they're hurting too; but mostly I hope they have news of Edward.

They don't.

"We've come to see if you're alright," Alice whispers, biting her lip, and I know from her face and her voice that whatever happened when Edward went home...it wasn't good.

Fresh tears stream down my cheeks and she immediately takes my hand and leads me to the sofa. She sits beside me, holding my hand, and Carlisle takes the rocking chair. As I sniff and wipe my face with my sleeve Carlisle leans forward. I wait for him to tell me I shouldn't have told Edward the truth, I'm ready to disagree and argue with him, and I'm surprised when he begins to apologise.

"Bella, I am truly sorry for the position I put you in when I asked you not to be honest with Edward." He closes his eyes and shakes his head, this is the most tense I have ever seen him - apart from the night of my birthday. When he opens his eyes slowly I can see clearly his three hundred years.

"I have been so concerned with trying to protect Edward and letting him remember on his own, but the truth was always going to hurt, however it came to him."

"And keeping it from him has just made it worse," I whisper. "It's added a whole extra layer of hurt."

Carlisle nods and gives me a small, sad smile.

"You're right. I've just compounded the problem. And it was wrong of me to ask you to pretend, I should never have put you in that position. I'm very sorry."

I'm not sure what to say now but his obvious distress and his heartfelt apology have touched me and I see the man who has tried to do his best for the boy who is like his son.

I think of my own father and the agony I put him through, and his well-meaning but clumsy attempts to help me; the threats to send me to my mother because he didn't know what to do anymore; the threat of counselling; his promise to shoot Edward if he ever saw him again. I know Charlie walked the floor at night, worrying about me. He would come to my room to save me from my nightmares. I'm sure he would have told me any number of lies, or kept any amount of information from me, if he'd thought it would stop my pain. It's just what a father would do.

I reach out to take Carlisle's hand. My gesture surprises him and his ancient, amber eyes blink at me.

"You're a very gracious young woman, Bella," he whispers. "And very forgiving." He gives my hand a very gentle squeeze and then he stands slowly.

"You're going?" I stand too.

"Alice would like to stay, I think, if that's alright?" He smiles at me. "But I'm needed at home. I just came to see that you were alright. And to apologise."

"Thank you, Carlisle. I appreciate that."

He bows his head, says goodnight and when I close the door behind him I turn to see Alice looking at my little snowglobe. I glance away quickly, I can't bear to see it right now.

"Is that from Edward?" she asks.

I nod. "Did he tell you about it?"

"No," she shakes her head. "I guessed because there was a plastic bag from a souvenir shop in the trash the other day."

The image of Edward shopping for me makes me want to cry again and I shake it away quickly. Then I take a deep breath.

"Okay, tell me what happened tonight, Alice."

She nods and moves over a little on the sofa, making more room for me. "You'd better sit down again," she says.

So I sit and I listen to her tell me about the brief but vivid vision she saw of Edward and me in the clearing, and then about Edward's stormy arrival back home. I gasp, hand flying to my mouth when she tells how he threw Jasper against the wall.

"No-one was hurt," she assures me. "I don't think Edward actually planned to do any damage, but..." she drops her eyes, twists her hands in her lap. "Bella, Jasper and I left Forks straight after your birthday party, we didn't come back at all and when we saw Edward again it was almost a week later. Jasper apologised for what he'd done, but Edward was so consumed with your break-up, and so obsessed with killing Victoria...I don't think Jasper's near-miss with you was ever really dealt with. Not properly." She looks up at me. "Jasper understands Edward's reaction tonight...we all do."

I wouldn't have thought it possible for me to feel any more drained, but I do. I feel like a wet rag that has been stretched out and wrung dry.

"Do you have any idea where he's gone?" I ask and Alice frowns softly.

"Nothing is clear," she says. She shifts in her seat, plucks at the hem of her skirt.

"He'll come back, won't he, Alice?"

"He will, I'm just not sure when."

"He's so hurt."

"I know," Alice whispers and strokes her hand over my hair. "Give him time, Bella. Our kind doesn't take change easily, Edward has had to readjust his thinking again, not just about what's happened, but about himself, too. He needs to process everything and that will take time. I'm sure once he's calmed down he'll understand."

"I'm worried he'll hate me." I finally give voice to the thought that has been pricking and poking at me since Edward laid eyes on my scar.

"He would never hate you," Alice soothes. "Never."

I nod, but I don't feel so sure.

Alice makes me a very weak cup of tea - that's what humans do in times of stress, she tells me. She clatters around in the kitchen and wrinkles her perfect nose as she hands the steaming cup to me. I drink it too quickly, it's hot, but I barely feel it scald my throat. She offers to stay with me but I refuse the offer - I'd rather be alone.

We say goodnight, she promises to let me know if she hears anything from Edward, and as soon as I close the door I go back to the middle of my bed.

I curl around my pillow again. I stare at the open window, watching the flimsy curtain flutter in the breeze, and listen to the minutes tick by on the clock.

The minutes become hours.

The hours become days.

Monday.

Tuesday.

Wednesday.

Each day I wonder if this is the day Edward will come home. I know he will, I know he won't leave this unresolved, I will definitely hear from him...I just don't know what he'll say.

Luckily my Wednesday afternoon shift at The Drum is busy and keeps my mind distracted a little bit. It's Halloween and Alison is home preparing for her party - she's swapped her shift with Justin who normally works Tuesdays.

I don't want to go to the party, it's the last thing I want to do, but I promised Alison, and I'd already told Scott I'd give him a ride.

Life goes on.

I still have assignments due. I still have to go to work.

And Halloween parties don't stop because Edward Cullen has left town.

When Scott asks me what I'm going to wear I realise I haven't even organised a costume.

"Got a first aid kit?" he asks.

"Um, yeah."

"Got bandages in it?"

"I think so."

He grins. "Wrap your head in the bandages and go as the Invisible Man. Or The Mummy!"

"Maybe," I give him a weak smile.

-0- -0- -0-

Alice comes over to help me but I'm not in the mood for dress-ups or a party. And though she's trying to be up-beat she isn't quite her usual perky self either.

"You could cut up a sheet and be a ghost," she suggests, feeling my bed linen between her fingers. But I only have two sets of sheets and I'm not prepared to butcher any of them.

"Okay, how about..." she flicks through my closet. "Actually, you really don't have a lot for me to work with here, Bella."

In the end we decide on my jeans with the bottoms rolled up and my old checked shirt. When I add the straw hat I bought in Florida I look like a farm girl, of sorts.

I sit on the end of my bed while Alice works my hair into two braids.

"You'll look fine," she smiles at me in the mirror. "We'll add some freckles to your nose, we can use dots of eyeliner for that."

I want to ask her if she's heard anything from Edward, but I already know the answer. She would have told me.

"He'll be back," she whispers, reading my thoughts.

"I know. How are things at home?"

"Quiet."

I watch her fingers move through my hair.

"Alice?"

"Hmm?"

"You were here a couple of times before Edward came over that first night." I swivel around to look at her. "How come he didn't smell your scent?"

"It was a week or so between my visit and his, wasn't it?" She gently turns my head back to the mirror. "That's plenty of time for a scent to disappear, especially if you have windows open."

"Oh, okay. I just wondered."

"And besides..." she rolls her eyes and looks almost offended. "I'm not a wet dog, Bella."

-0- -0- -0-

Scott is dressed as a gladiator. His plastic sword and tin shield take up too much room in my truck and I fight with his sword every time I change gear.

"Aren't you cold?" I ask him.

"Nope. Gladiators don't feel the cold."

"Yeah, maybe in ancient Mediterranean Greece they didn't, but Portland at the end of October?"

He shrugs. "I'm planning to find someone to keep me warm. Hey, is your friend coming? Edward, isn't it?"

"Um, no. He's busy."

I suppress a sigh as we pull up outside the party. Alison and her friends have hired an old warehouse for the occasion. Music thumps and blares from inside. I can see lights flashing through the dirty windows...it's not the sort of party I'd associate with Alison.

Scott's eyes light up until he sees he won't be the only gladiator. At the sight of two more of Sparta's finest walking down the street his face falls.

"Maybe you should have called ahead to co-ordinate outfits," I mutter and he shoots me a dark look.

He clambers out of the truck, nearly whacking me in the face with his sword, and I stick my straw hat on my head.

We walk along the footpath, following Superman and a naughty nurse, but at the warehouse entrance I stop.

Edward Cullen's car is parked a little further up the street.

And leaning against it is Edward Cullen.

My heart flip flops. The constant knot in my stomach pulls tighter. He pushes off from the car gracefully and comes towards me.

He's wearing the long black coat - the collar is turned up tonight.

I'm standing rooted to the spot, our eyes are locked and it's like nothing else in the world exists, everything has come down to this...now.

"Bella, are you coming?"

Sparticus is tugging on my braid but I pay no attention, my focus is fixed on Edward.

The coat swings rhythmically as he walks, flaring in and out a little at the bottom it sways in time with his steps.

The distance between us grows smaller. I can see his eyes now. They're light, and bright, and anxious.

So anxious.

His hands are in his pockets.

His lip is between his teeth.

He gives me a shy, apologetic, crooked smile.

My breath stills in my chest.

And he stops in front of me.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "And...I understand."

A single tear rolls down my cheek.

He lifts his hand and his thumb strokes over my skin, wiping the tear away.

I smile softly. He smiles too.

"You said things didn't have to end badly," he whispers. "You said we can work through this...do you still feel that way?"

His eyes are shining and hopeful and anxious. He swallows nervously and my heart swells with love for this man. Without words, without any thought, but acting purely on instinct, I step forward and throw my arms around him.

I hug him tight.

As tight as I can.

I hold him as I wanted to in that clearing when he was falling apart in front of my eyes.

And when I feel his arms close around me too, and hug me tight, pressing me gently against his chest, my heart feels like it's going to explode.

I feel his lips brush against my hair.

"Bella," he breathes. "I love you, too."

**-0- -0- -0-**

**A/N: Phew! Okay, we're back on track and we'll see them talk and cuddle next chapter :)**

**Thank you Melanie :)**

**Thank you everyone for your reviews and the amazing support you've given this story...it truly means so much.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**-0- -0- -0- -0- -0- -0- **

I am standing wrapped in Edward's arms; he holds me gently against his chest, my cheek pressed over his silent heart.

And he has just said he loves me.

My heart is soaring and singing and it beats hard enough for the both of us.

"I didn't expect this," he whispers. "I was coming to ask you if we could talk."

I pull back slightly, just enough to look up into his face.

"How did you know I was here?"

"The invitation was on your kitchen counter," he smiles and now I remember - that was the night of my new birthday. "I know I should have waited until tomorrow, but...I'm not always the most patient of men." He shrugs and I beam at him.

The night air is cool but I barely notice that my skin is pebbling. Edward moves his arms, releasing me so he can open his coat and wrap me up inside, bringing me out of the cold. He pulls me close again and I feel him press his cheek to the top of my head. The breeze scatters leaves and litter along the footpath, circling them around our feet.

I nestle against him, burrowing into the softness of the thick sweater he's wearing, cocooned by his body and his coat. He laughs softly, a deep chuckle of wonder and contentment that I can feel rumbling in his chest. "I really, really didn't expect this." His arms squeeze me very gently and I squeeze him back, as tight as I can.

I didn't expect this either. I had hoped Edward would want to try again, but I didn't think I'd be wrapped inside his coat just moments after he's returned and seconds after he's told me he loves me. Unless, maybe he's remembered...

"Has your memory...have you remembered something?" I tilt my face so I can see him and he gives me a soft smile as he slowly shakes his head.

"No. Nothing at all." His shoulders move with an apologetic shrug. "The Bella and Edward you talked about are still strangers to me, I'm sorry." He lifts his hand and his fingers just barely caress my cheek. He sighs now. "And we do have to talk. I wish things were as simple as holding you, but they're not."

I nod. "I know." And I have lots of questions. I want to know where he's been and how long he's been back, but I don't want to focus on anything else right now except his arms around me. But a chill thought comes creeping and suddenly my body tenses.

"The talk...it's not a goodbye talk is it? You are staying?" My breathing stops and the half second it takes for him to answer feels like hours.

"Definitely staying," he murmurs, smiling, and he tucks me snugly back under his chin. "I'm here for as long as you'll have me. All the decisions are yours, Bella."

All the decisions are mine? Really?

"Bella!" Scott's appalling timing shatters my thoughts and brings me back to the real world and suddenly I'm aware that Edward and I are standing on a footpath, outside an old warehouse that is blaring techno music and spilling over with all manner of ghouls and spooks and look-a-like celebrities. "Are you coming in or what?"

I turn, looking over the top of Edward's arm that is still wrapped around me. Scott is standing just inside the wide double-doors.

"I thought you were right behind me," he steps back onto the footpath, arms across his chest, maybe trying to look tough, perhaps trying to keep out the cold. The gladiator costume probably wasn't a good idea. "Hey, is this Edward?"

"Um, yes."

I turn to face Scott properly now. Edward releases me from his coat but he takes my hand and holds on. He strokes his thumb over mine.

"Edward, this is Scott. We work together. I like to call him Spartacus," I add with a smirk.

Scott makes a face at me then offers his hand to Edward. They nod and I register the slight flicker of surprise in Scott's eyes when he touches Edward's skin.

"Yeah, it's cold out tonight, isn't it?" he says conversationally.

"It is," Edward agrees.

"You coming in?" Scott turns to me and jerks his head towards the door. "You should see Alison." He grins and shakes his head. "It's always the people you least expect." And with that cryptic comment he moves back inside.

"You should go and join your friends," Edward smiles at me. "I can wait."

I shake my head – now he's here, I'm not letting him go.

"Come in with me, we'll just stay a minute, I'll find Alison, say hello and then we can go talk."

I tug on Edward's hand and watch his face as he looks towards the warehouse and I'm relieved when he smiles and nods.

It's dark inside the warehouse, and hot, and the flashing lights make it difficult to see - people appear as jerky, disjointed flashes of motion and colour. Scott is already lost somewhere in the crowd and my eyes scan the sea of dancers for Alison - I should have asked Scott what she was wearing. I feel Edward's fingers tense around mine and when I look up I see his jaw is tight, his eyes narrowed as he studies the scene in front of him and I begin to wonder if it's too much - the scents of so many gyrating humans in a hot, confined place. I search again for Alison - I just want to get out of here and be alone with Edward. Suddenly I think I see her in the distance - she's dressed as Alice in Wonderland, talking to the DJ. I reach up on my toes to speak into Edward's ear then realise that of course he'll hear me over the noise, I don't have to shout - but still he lowers his head for me. The small gesture makes me smile.

"Alison is over there..." I wave my arm, pointing. "I'll be right back." It's probably quicker if I move through the crowd by myself, and if Edward is feeling uncomfortable I don't want to make it worse by dragging him with me into the thick of a heaving mass of humanity. I let go of his hand; he seems unsure for a moment but then nods.

The crowd surges and rolls, the music pulses and throbs - I can feel it vibrating through my body as I push my way through. I am bumped and jostled and have to keep the straw hat on my head with my hand; there must be almost two hundred people here - a collection of zombies and witches, naughty nurses and skeletons and gladiators, pirates and princesses. There are gorillas and Scooby Doo, Ghostbusters and a Pillsbury Doughboy. And of course there are vampires and I wonder what Edward makes of that.

Alison is talking to the DJ, except that it's not Alison after all - it's another girl with long blonde hair.

"Sorry," I shout over the noise. "I thought you were Alison."

The girl smiles and points. "She's over there, by the fire exit." I turn and look at the small group of people laughing by the door with the faded green Exit light above it, and my mouth drops open. Scott is right - it is always the ones you least expect.

There is no blonde ponytail and ballet flats today - Alison is in thigh high stiletto boots. Her long black wig matches the black corset she wears. Her long gloves are fingerless and reveal blood red talons, the same colour as her lips. Her eyes are darkened with kohl and she hurries over when she sees me.

"Bella! Oh, Bella, you look so cute!" she gushes at me loudly.

"Thanks. You look...good, too," I shout back. "Very different."

She laughs. "I know! I'm having such an incredible time, isn't it a cool party? It was so much work for us to organise but I think it's worth it. Are you having fun?" But she gives me no time to answer before she is grabbed by a passing zombie and she dances off, swallowed up by the crowd. I don't think I'll ever look at Alison the same way again.

As I begin to plow my way back to Edward I see Scott dancing with a cowgirl who is wearing the shortest denim shorts I've ever seen. Her ten gallon hat is on his head, and she wears his gladiator helmet. I jostle my way over and shout in Scott's ear that I'm leaving now. He nods and grins and gives me the thumbs up; he only needed the ride here, he's always had different plans for making his way home and right now I think the cowgirl is part of those plans.

I head back towards the entrance where I left Edward, pushing my way through as the music becomes faster and more frantic and the crowd responds - they're like wind-up toys whose keys have been turned too far.

From nowhere a ghost appears in front of me - a sheet with eye holes cut out, it bobs and weaves as it dances. I smile and try to go around but it blocks my way, not letting me pass.

"Dance with me?" the ghost shouts and a hand extends from beneath the sheet.

I shake my head and smile and make to move around him again but once more I'm blocked and on the densely-packed dance floor there is not a lot of room for me to maneuver easily.

"Aww, come on..." the ghost takes a hold of my wrist. "It'll be fun!"

Immediately I pull my arm back, tugging my wrist quickly out of his grasp and my straw hat falls to the floor as I glare.

"I'm here with someone!" I shout, and suddenly that someone is right there, beside me.

Drawn up to his full six feet two, Edward towers over the ghost, glaring a death glare, and the polycotton spectre shrinks away quickly, disappearing into the crowd.

"Thank you," I smile at Edward.

"You okay?" he bends his head and speaks into my ear as he gently takes my hand. His other hand sweeps my hat up from the floor.

"Yeah. I think he just wanted to dance."

Edward straightens and nods but he's on edge. His eyes are darting over the crowd, his hold on my hand tightens.

"Do you want to dance?" he asks suddenly, looking down at me. "Because if you want to we can."

"No, I don't dance."

He frowns. "Should I know that?"

"Er, yeah."

He nods again, the frown deepens. "Okay, no dancing."

"But I am ready to get out of here."

My fingers squeeze his and now Edward flashes me a smile. He sets the hat on my head, it's battered and bent now, and he tows me behind him as he strides through the crowd. He cuts an easy path and it's as though the dancers move back for him without even noticing that they're doing it. As we reach the wide double doors a slightly drunk Marilyn Monroe stops us.

"Hey!" She squints at Edward, her synthetic blonde head cocked to the side as she studies his long dark coat. "I don't get your costume. What have you come as?"

"Mafia hitman." Edward doesn't miss a beat and the girl grins.

"Oh yeah, now I see it. Cool," she giggles.

I'm giggling too as we step out onto the footpath. "Did you really come as a mafia hitman?" I tease.

He shakes his head. "Vampire," he mouths and shoots me a quick grin before he looks up and down the street and asks, "Your car or mine?"

-0-

We drive to my apartment in Edward's car. Holding hands over the console, he steers with just two fingers and I watch his profile in the dark, smiling when he turns to look at me, too. His edginess and unease that were so apparent in the warehouse have gone now, and after the noise and frenetic energy of the party the car is quiet and peaceful and we spend our journey in silence. His thumb strokes over my knuckles softly. I know we have to talk, I know there is still so much to sort through, but right now I just sink into the leather seat and savour this moment - he's back; he's staying. His thumb strokes my knuckles again.

"You sure you don't mind missing the party?" he asks and I shake my head.

"No. Not at all." I squeeze his hand and he smiles. "And thank you for coming in with me; I know it couldn't have been comfortable for you, with so many scents."

"For that short amount of time it wasn't particularly uncomfortable," he smiles. "I've been to nightclubs before, and concerts, with more people than that." He looks at me, a slightly puzzled look on his face. "Did I do something to make you think I was uncomfortable?"

"No, not really." Now I'm wondering if I imagined it and Edward's curious, expectant gaze is on me. I shrug. "It's nothing. I just thought you seemed a bit tense when we walked in, and when you rescued me from that ghost. Thanks again for that."

He nods, acknowledging my thanks, but he frowns and his lips thin in a hard line. His jaw is hard again and I know now that I hadn't imagined anything.

"You okay?" I ask, watching him stare hard at the road as we drive and wishing I'd never said anything. It's a moment before he answers, as if he's debating whether to speak or not.

"I couldn't read their minds," he finally murmurs and it sounds like his teeth are clenched. He lets go of the steering wheel and pulls his hand through his hair – his voice is loaded with frustration now. "There were so many masks, and that ghost...I couldn't see his face, I couldn't guess his intentions. It made me tense."

I'm not sure what to say. I don't even know if there is anything I can say, but this gives me a glimpse into his life since he lost his gift…and my heart burns for him.

"I'm still learning to read people." He frowns as we pull up at a red light and his fingers drum on the steering wheel. "If I can't see their faces..." he trails off. I squeeze his hand again, hard.

"You took care of the ghost for me."

Edward blinks at me, his face smooth and blank now as he registers my words. Then a small smile starts on his lips.

"I did."

I squeeze his hand again and he looks down where our fingers join and his smile grows and warms. He lifts our hands and his eyes travel to mine as he lowers his face over my knuckles. His intention is clear and my heart skips and I smile as his perfect lips just barely brush my skin. Even this small touch leaves me breathless.

He sets our hands back down as the light turns green and I turn to stare out the window while my heart resumes normal function. I find myself wondering if he'll stay with me all night, like he used to.

We're driving through a more residential area now and I watch the parades of children trick-or-treating on the streets.

"Halloween has moved a long way from its original traditions," I murmur. "People used to stay indoors, too scared to come out."

The moon is bright in the sky, a silver orb that casts eerie shadows on the little ghouls and goblins with their plastic pumpkin buckets full of candy.

"Do you think ghosts really do wander the earth tonight?"

When I hear Edward snort I look up, surprised.

"What?" I ask.

He's smirking as he watches the road. "Ghosts? There's no such thing, Bella."

I bite my lip, trying not to giggle. No such thing as ghosts? So says the vampire.

-0-

My apartment is dark and I walk carefully across the living room to the lamp in the corner; it sheds a soft, warm glow that pools in the corner and softly embraces the room - much nicer than the bright overhead light. I hear the click of the front door as it closes and I turn to see Edward standing with his hands in his pockets. His long coat is draped over one of the stools at the breakfast bar. The smile he offers me is shy.

We stare at each other and suddenly I feel nervous; the mood is tense now. I drop down onto the sofa, hoping he'll join me, but he goes instead to the rocking chair and sits there, like the night I helped with his assignment. He pushes his sleeves up then stares at the floor as he rubs his hands along his thighs in a nervous and surprisingly human way.

"The worst part of all this," he begins without preamble, "...is knowing how much I've hurt you."

My breathing hitches, he's getting straight to the point, and he raises his eyes slowly, looking at me through his dark lashes. "I am so very sorry."

"It's okay..." I start quickly but stop when he shakes his head and I know I have to let him do this. I swallow and nod for him to continue.

"What you said in the clearing on Sunday, about how I left you in Forks, and the things my family told me this evening..." He shakes his head as shame fills his eyes and he drops his gaze again. "It is beyond my comprehension how I could have been so deliberately cruel."

My eyes are brimming and I blink hard. I don't know what to say to him while a small part of my brain registers that he's seen his family again.

"You thought you were protecting me," I whisper.

Edward leans forward now, resting his elbows on his knees, steepling his fingers beneath his chin as he looks at me.

"I was cruel."

"Cruel to be kind." The well-worn phrase spills automatically from my lips because I don't want him to feel bad, but I don't really feel the conviction of my words - there was nothing kind about what happened. And it seems Edward feels the same. His voice comes with a grim edge.

"Where was the kindness, Bella? What did my cruelty achieve? Because it seems to me that neither of us fared very well out of my lies."

"No," I admit. "We didn't fare very well. Neither of us." I pick up the throw pillow and hug it.

"And yet you welcomed me back into your life..." His voice softens. So do his eyes.

"I welcomed you back because I understand. And because I love you."

His eyes warm and melt into mine.

"I know," he sighs, and then frowns as though he's trying to fathom it. "And knowing that you love me is what has got me through these last three days, once I'd calmed down enough to think clearly. It made me see my family's actions differently." His face darkens, the frown deepens. "But my family never intended to hurt me. But I did intend to hurt you. I must have known what my lies would do to you." He rubs his hands over his face before letting them drop, loose, into his lap. "That night here, when you were upset about your birthday...the feelings I felt, the fury that someone had hurt you...and then later to find out it was me?" His voice breaks and there is pain, raw and real, all over his face. His eyes travel now to the little snow globe on my shelf. "And I try to make up for it with a cheap souvenir and a chocolate cake..."

"Stop!"

Edward looks up, almost startled, when I snap at him, and my reaction has surprised me too, but I am not going to let him go down that dark path.

"We're being honest here, right?"

He nods.

"Well, that snow globe and the cake, they mean so much to me, Edward - so much I can't even explain it, okay?" My voice is strong and firm, I am not to be argued with, and Edward is staring at me, bemused, shocked even. "That night, you didn't even know what had happened to me, but just the fact that you wanted to make it better meant everything, so don't go on about your gifts not being enough to make it up to me, because they are."

My glare and my silence are daring him to disagree but, very wisely, he doesn't. He blinks twice and then nods slowly.

"You wore the ribbon," he says softly and my irritation fades.

"Yes," I smile.

"That meant a lot to me."

"Really?"

He nods again, slowly and deliberately and something in his eyes makes my heart pick up.

There is a knock at the door and I jump, startled. Edward looks toward the sound, frowning. The knock comes again.

"I'd better get it." I scramble off the sofa as Edward stands gracefully. When I open the door I see Mrs. Upshot from next door with a young boy of about six who is dressed as a pirate and who shouts trick-or-treat at the top of his voice.

"My grandson, Nicholas," Mrs. Upshot smiles. "We're just knocking on a few doors that we know."

"Oh, um, hi," I smile back. "Just let me take a look and see what I've got." My mind takes a second to readjust - I'm not prepared for trick-or-treaters and I go to the kitchen, trying to think if I have any candy. I look at Edward and he shrugs as I begin searching through the cupboards - but it's all tins and jars and fruit. I don't think Nicholas is going to want a banana.

Suddenly Edward comes forward.

"Do you have a piece of notepaper?" he whispers.

I nod at my notebooks that are spread over the breakfast bar.

"Why?" I ask, puzzled.

"The treat doesn't have to be candy."

And I watch, fascinated, as Edward takes a blank sheet and fashions the most elaborate paper airplane I've ever seen. His fingers move swiftly and expertly, folding and creasing, and then he grabs a black marker from the pencil holder beside the fruit bowl and draws symbols and numbers on the wings and the tail. He outlines some pointy shark-style teeth on the nose, like I've seen in pictures of fighter planes, and colours them in with the red marker. Then he turns, calls "Incoming!" and pitches his creation towards the door where Mrs. Upshot and Nicholas are still standing. The whole process has taken him all of ten seconds.

The little plane swoops across the room, rising and falling and doing a fancy double-loop-the-loop before landing smoothly and precisely at Nicholas' feet. He is open-mouthed as he bends down and carefully picks it up.

"Wow!" He stares at Edward. "Can I have this?"

When Edward nods Nicholas does a practice flight of his own and though the plane doesn't obey quite as it did for Edward, it still does a dramatic swoop that has the little boy's eyes popping. Obviously the paper jet has been expertly engineered.

Mrs. Upshot beams at her grandson and then at Edward as she and Nicholas say thank you.

"You're welcome," Edward smiles a closed-lip smile - no teeth.

"Happy Halloween," I add as Nicholas and his grandma grin and wave and move on up the hall.

I shut the door behind them and lean against it, grinning at Edward.

"That was a really sweet thing to do. And that plane was so cool."

He shrugs.

"I didn't know you could do that, though it doesn't really surprise me."

He smiles. "Well, I'm glad there are still some things for you to learn about me."

I push away from the door and take a step towards him.

"Did you make paper airplanes when you were a kid?" I ask and Edward chuckles. I roll my eyes as I realise my mistake.

"Bella, I was two years old when the first airplane flew."

"I know, I just realised. Not easy to make a bi-plane out of a piece of paper, I guess."

"No, not easy at all. Although now you might have presented me with a challenge." He grins as I giggle and then cocks his head to his shoulder, watching me.

"I like listening to you laugh," he says. "Seeing you smile. Your happiness is everything to me."

His sudden, simple declaration has me blushing and I don't know quite what to say. He's never mentioned my laugh before.

"This is all very new for me," he says softly and his amber eyes are bright and brilliant. "I have no frame of reference - in my mind, I've never had a human know who I am. It feels strange, being so exposed, but at the same time it's a relief, and it's so easy to be myself with you."

His honesty disarms me and while of course we both know that this isn't new, right now for him, it is.

"It took me a while to realise what I was feeling for you was love," he says. "I knew I was intrigued by you, your mind, the way you thought, captivated me. And I felt fiercely protective of you, and your happiness meant everything, but it wasn't until I held you and saw the joy on your face while we were ice-skating that I realised what it all meant. It felt like my heart had started beating."

I am lost for words. My eyes sting with tears but I refuse to cry - there have been enough tears. Instead I let him see my joy in my smile. Edward smiles too.

"Then it wasn't just my scent that drew you to me before? Or my silent mind?"

"No," he shakes his head slowly, deliberately.

I want to throw myself at him, but he stands still, keeping the distance between us though the pull is strong. It feels like the room is humming. Then Edward's eyes flick to my shelves, to the little Phoenix snow globe and its Portland mate, and I think I can guess what he's thinking…I know where his mind has gone.

"The first time you came here, you told me about the globe you had as a boy. The one you got from the zoo."

He smiles and nods as he turns back to me. "I shocked myself when I told you about that. It was the first time I'd ever shared anything of my human time with someone outside my family." He swallows. "And that night was the first time I ever told jokes like that, as far as I could remember."

"I liked the jokes."

"I'd never told them to you before?"

"No. Never."

"I didn't think so."

"Moo."

His face splits into a broad grin. "Moo," he whispers back.

Edward walks to me slowly and I take a step towards him - we meet in the middle of the living room. The strain from our earlier conversation has long gone but a new tension has replaced it. My skin tingles. My heart picks up, dancing with anticipation, as he lifts his hand and caresses my cheek. The knuckles of two fingers graze gently over my skin and there is the faintest tremor in his touch.

"This is all very new to me," he says again. I reach up and cover his hand on my cheek. I see his throat move as he swallows. "I can't relate to anything you've told me about before, in Forks. All I know is how I've felt the past few weeks and how I feel right now."

"How do you feel right now?"

He gives me a soft, shy smile. "Right now I just want to hold you. But I know we still need to talk."

"Maybe we can do both?" I suggest hopefully.

Edward's smile widens and my heart feels like it's going to beat right out of my chest. I grab his hand and pull him with me until we sink down into the sofa cushions together. I nestle close to him and he drapes his arm loosely around my shoulders.

"Is this okay?" he asks.

"Mmm," I snuggle against him and he pulls me closer.

"I meant what I said before, about not expecting this sort of welcome."

"What were you expecting?"

He sighs and shrugs and lets his head fall back on the sofa cushion. "I didn't know. I thought you might be angry with me. I was hoping you'd agree to talk to me, and I was hoping you had meant it on Sunday night when you said we could fix this, but having you in my arms like this, just feels too much."

In the quiet now I think over the last three days and how I didn't expect to be here like this right now either.

"I thought I'd lost you again," I whisper and the burn pricks at the backs of my eyes. "You were so angry."

"I was."

"And hurt."

"Yes."

"I'm sorry. I'm so, sorry. Everyone was trying to protect you, but it just made things worse."

He kisses the top of my head and his arm tightens around my shoulder. His other arm reaches across to take my hand.

"It's okay," he whispers and settles me closer into his side.

"And your family? You said you saw them tonight."

"Before I came to see you."

I pull back and watch his face. "How was that? Is everything okay?"

"They're glad I'm home. We talked, they filled in a lot of gaps for me...everything will be fine."

"Just like that?"

Edward shrugs. "I'm focusing on the end result." And he gives my hand a squeeze but I have the feeling he isn't quite there yet with his family.

"Jasper?"

There's the slightest tightening around Edward's eyes. "I've made my peace with Jasper." He says no more and I decide not to push him on it just now. Instead I clamber off the sofa - suddenly there's something I want to do.

"Where are you going?" Edward asks, looking lost.

"Be right back."

I hurry into my bedroom and grab the hoodie that hangs on the back of the door. It's the one I wore on Sunday and I pull my bookmark from the pocket where Edward tucked it before he left. I want him to have it again.

Back into the living room Edward waits for me, head cocked, curious.

"I have something for you." I climb back into place beside him and hold out the bookmark.

His eyes widen a little as they look at the strip of leather across my palm, and then he looks at me.

"I want you to keep it."

When I smile he reaches out slowly and takes the bookmark from me. He holds it in his hand and his thumb strokes over the patterns.

"I didn't know it was yours, but I knew it was important." He takes a deep, slow breath. "I found this in the pocket of the shirt I wore when we fought Victoria's army of newborns." He speaks slowly, his voice low and deep, weighing his words. "I could remember fighting," he frowns. "But I couldn't remember where the bookmark came from. I knew it must have been important though, because I had taken it into battle with me."

His words hit me like a wrecking ball and my tears come fast and sudden now and they spill down my cheeks as Edward pulls me quickly into his arms. He had taken my keepsake into battle with him - the meaning is all too clear and as I remember what Carlisle had told me about finding Edward in the woods, I begin to sob.

"Bella?"

"You al...almost died," I stutter. And it would have been for me...he would have died for me.

"But I didn't. I'm here, Bella."

I clutch him harder, closer, letting my tears darken his sweater.

"Don't leave me again."

"I won't."

"I can't watch you walk away again."

"I'm sorry."

He strokes my hair, my back. He rocks me softly and it's so comforting as I cling to him, feeling him, hard and real against me as I cry.

"I won't leave," he whispers and pulls me into his lap. "I won't leave."

Gradually, my sobs fade to sniffs. I lift my head from Edward's chest and give him a shaky smile.

"I'm sorry about that."

"Don't be."

"Thank you."

"What for?"

"For fighting for me."He shakes his head and pulls me close again.

"Bella..." he murmurs. He strokes one hand gently over my hair. His other hand rubs more circles on my back.

"Bella, earlier I told you all the decisions were yours." His voice is soft and I shift so I can see his face.

"I want to be with you," he whispers but as my heart swells with joy, suddenly I see a fear in Edward's eyes that wasn't there before. "But I'm very much aware that there is not a lot I can offer you. My existence is a strange sort of half-life and I act it out on the fringe of humanity without ever being truly a part of it." He gives me a sad, apologetic smile. "I'm not much of a catch."

"Oh, Edward..."

"There is danger and there are limitations in being with someone like me, but I realise you already know that too well." He turns my hand over and traces the scar on my wrist, and then he raises his eyes to mine. The fear is still there, but I see conviction too now. There is conviction in is voice, too. "Bella, last week you spoke about reckless choices and informed decisions..."

I nod, blinking hard.

"And on Sunday I told you that I am an informed decision."

"Yes."

"I don't believe I would ever hurt you, Bella."

"I know."

"And your life wouldn't have to be as limited as mine. I would give you the space you need to be human." He swallows again, his eyes don't move, they hold my gaze. "Right now I could make speeches, I could go over all the many reasons why I should walk away and leave you alone, but you already know those reasons well, and I won't make decisions for you again. I love you, Bella. And you've said that you love me."

"I do. I love you."

His eyes spark and shine and melt into mine as his lips curve into a dazzling smile. His arms tighten around me.

"Then the decision is yours," he whispers. "I'm yours if you'll have me."

"If I'll have you?" My voice cracks. "I thought that was a given." I throw my arms around his neck and hug him as tight as I can. Edward laughs, it's a rich, joyful sound that comes from deep inside him and he falls back on the sofa, pulling me with him.

"And I'm yours, too," I whisper and when Edward moans I feel like my body and heart will combust. "This is happening so fast," I murmur against his neck.

"Is it too fast?" There's concern in Edward's voice now. "We can slow things down if you..."

"No! No!" I pull back and look at him. He's lying propped against the arm of the sofa as I sit across him, my legs over his. His hair is messier than usual from my hug and his amber eyes stare deep into mine, searching.

"I did think things would be slower, yes, but only because I thought you'd want to go slow, Edward. I know that for you, we've basically just met."

He sits forward so now there is only a small space between us. I tuck my legs beneath me and Edward does the same.

"But it doesn't feel that way," he says slowly, frowning, and he pulls his hand through his hair. He messes it up even more and I can't help the small smile that tugs at my lips. "I wish I could explain. It's as though my mind doesn't remember, but the rest of me does. This, for example..." He reaches out and caresses my cheek. "It feels right, like the memory is there on some other level and my touch remembers you. And holding you, that feels so natural. It's as if I know you, but I don't." He shakes his head, trying to make sense of it.

"Don't try to analyse it too much."

"It's hard not to."

"I know."

He stares at me. "I wish I could remember."

"I know. Maybe one day you will."

"Or maybe not," he murmurs. "You do realise I might never remember who you were?" I can feel him starting to tense.

"I know that, but it's okay. You know who I am now."

I reach out and run my fingers through his hair. Edward's eyes slowly close. His head falls forward and after I catch the smile that appears on his lips.

"That feels good," he whispers as I play with his hair. When I take my hand away his eyes open and he smiles - his missing memory seemingly forgotten.

"I like your freckles," he says, almost lazily, and it's not until he touches his finger to my nose that I realise what he means.

"Oh!" I start laughing. I've just had one of the most serious conversations of my life and I'm dressed as a farm girl with braids and eyeliner dots on my nose and cheeks.

"You look cute," Edward grins.

"I look stupid," I laugh and he shakes his head.

"Beautiful," he whispers, eyes and voice serious now.

I'm caught in his gaze and right now, with my braids and freckles, I feel beautiful.

"You said on Sunday that we had kissed." Edward's words are soft, almost hesitant. My heart begins cartwheeling in my chest as I nod, eyes wide. Edward's gaze falls to my lips, then makes a slow path back to my eyes.

"Is that something we did a lot?"

"Uh huh."

"Would it be too soon if I were to kiss you now?"

"No."

My voice is barely there as Edward slowly moves closer, keeping his eyes on mine.

"Bear in mind, I haven't done this before," he whispers.

"I'm sure you'll do just fine."

I stay very still as he slowly leans in and strokes his nose along the length of mine. Gently, he nudges my cheek. He's not breathing, and I am almost breathless while my heart pounds out a frantic rhythm. Edward moves lower; his lips graze along my jaw, over my neck and he presses a careful kiss on the pulse point in my throat. My head rolls back on my shoulders and I groan. I feel his lips curve against my skin in a smile.

Then he moves even lower until his cheek is resting gently against my chest. He listens to my heart.

Tenderly, I wrap my arms around him as I remember the first time he ever did this. It was in the meadow, when he told me I was his own brand of heroin - but now his body holds none of the raw tension from that day. I stroke the back of his neck and he sighs.

"The most important sound in my world," he breathes and turns his face to kiss the hollow of my throat. He lifts his head and smiles up at me; a soft, crooked smile with blazing eyes that makes my body burn.

He kisses my throat again and his lips slowly trail upwards until he stops at the corner of my mouth and presses a kiss there too. Then his lips brush softly over mine.

I hear the soft gasp on his breath and his lips touch mine again.

My arms snake up around his neck and his slide around my waist, pulling me closer as his mouth begins to move gently, carefully, with mine. My skin tingles and burns, electricity hums through my body, sparking through my veins and I can't get close enough. Edward's hands roam over my back. I twist my fingers in his hair. This isn't like other times he kissed me. This kiss is not tempered by fear or restraint – there's only joy in this kiss and in the way he holds me. Joy and desire and love. His lips claim me, they make me his again, and I am lost in him.

When he pulls back I see the awed smile spread across his face. But there are questions there, too.

"How was that?" He's eager to know as his hair flops over his eyes.

"Not bad for a first time," I pant, breathless, and he laughs.

"Bella…" he nuzzles his nose against my neck. "Was it always that good?"

"It was always good, but that was...spectacular."

He's smug now. "Spectacular." He tries the word out and from the smile on his face I think he likes it. "Spectacular," he says again.

I roll my eyes at him and he laughs again. I reach out to touch his jaw, running my thumb over his glass-smooth skin.

"How's your throat? Kissing me used to feel like you'd swallowed hot knives."

His expression darkens just a little.

"No hot knives," he whispers. "More of a slow burn. Very manageable."

"Good."

I smile and so does he.

Edward pulls me with him as he lays back down. He tucks me under his chin and sighs. His fingers play with my braids.

"This evening is definitely playing out better than I anticipated," he chuckles.

"Mm, definitely."

"Did we used to lie around like this?"

"Yep."

He kisses the top of my head.

"I wish I could tell you the peace I feel right now."

I smile and stroke his arm. His sleeves are still pushed up and my fingers trace the pale blue veins on the inside of his wrist. I still can't quite believe he's here, with me. Can't believe how my life has changed in the last couple of hours. And he's not arguing with me about the dangers of us being together; he's not beating himself up or telling me I should keep away. He understands that I know what I'm getting into and he's letting me make my own decisions.

He's the same Edward, but so different. And I like him.

"Where have you been the last three days?" I murmur.

Edward sighs as he picks up my braid, running it through his long fingers.

"I was heading for Alaska initially."

"Why there?"

He kisses my braid and lets it go so he can rub his hand along my arm.

"There's another family of vampires like us in Denali."

"Oh, I remember you telling me once." It was long ago, in the very early days. "But you didn't go?"

"No. I got to the border and realised I couldn't be so far away from you. And I wasn't in the mood for another altercation anyway."

"Another one?"

I feel him nod. "We think of this other family as our cousins and we'd gone to stay with them for a while after my accident. But I realised on Sunday that they must have been keeping the truth from me too."

I feel his body tense beneath me.

"Oh, Edward, I'm sorry." He'd been betrayed by everyone he knew. When I look up at him he's scowling.

"You okay?" I reach up and touch his face.

"I am." His arms squeeze around me.

"So where did you go if you didn't go to Alaska?"

"Forks."

"Forks!" I sit up quickly and almost whack my head on Edward's chin.

"Careful," he murmurs.

"What were you doing in Forks?"

He frowns at me. "I was hoping it would jog my memory."

"What is someone saw you?"

Now he arches an eyebrow and I realise that of course no-one would have seen him unless he'd wanted them to.

"Okay, okay, no-one saw you. So what did you do?"

"I went to the house. And the meadow. The school. I even went to your father's house."

"You did?"

He nods. "I climbed the tree out the front like you told me I used to do."

"Really?"

"And I let myself into your bedroom."

"Are you serious!" My mouth falls open, as though my jaw has suddenly come unhinged.

"Why do you look like that?" he asks, genuinely perplexed. "You told me I did it for weeks without you knowing. And you were in the room."

"I know, but..." I shake my head. I don't know why I'm so shocked. "What if Charlie caught you?"

"Why would he catch me? He was asleep and I was very quiet."

And suddenly I'm giggling. "That is such an Edward thing to say."

"Is it?" he grins. "So glad I can amuse you."

I roll my eyes.

"So nothing seemed familiar?"

"No, but did you always keep a lot of fishing equipment in your bedroom?" He smirks.

"That would be my dad, Edward." I answer pointedly and roll my eyes again for added effect.

"I guessed as much," he grins.

He rumples his hand through my hair. "There was something in there that had me curious, though."

"Oh? What's that?" I try to think what it could have been, my mind goes over my room the last time I saw it. But before Edward can answer there's a knock at my door, and Edward's phone begins to ring.

**-0- -0- -0- -0- -0- -0- **

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who is reading and reviewing this story - your support and feedback means more than I can say. And thank you to the reader(s) who have nominated my story Distractions for Fic of the Week at the Lemonade Stand, and thank you to those who have voted - I appreciate it so much.**

**And thank you to Melanie who is the world's speediest beta, a good friend, and pointed out to me that "plough" is spelt "plow" in America. I learn something new every day :) Melanie (Edwards Eternal)has a new story up - it's called Snowbound and it's a very addictive read.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Sorry this chapter took a while. It's a long chapter, lots of info...I hope you enjoy.**

**-0- -0- -0- -0- **

The twin intrusions of ringing phone and door knock startle me and I jerk backwards, almost falling off the sofa. Edward quickly grabs me with one hand, silences his phone with the other and gently pulls me back beside him while my heart hammers and my mind races. That has to have been Alice on the phone. My eyes dart to the door and I know the call must be something to do with whoever is knocking. Adrenalin spikes through me. My body tenses.

And Edward is staring at me, wide-eyed and puzzled.

"What's wrong?" he whispers. "Bella, your heart..." And I'm surprised he has to ask.

My eyes shift from his face to the door then drop to the phone in his hand.

"It was Ellie, from my psych class. You met her in the library last week." Edward holds up the phone showing me the screen that says one missed call - Ellie.

"Not...not Alice?" But it's always Alice. And I am so taken up with surprise that it's only a small part of me that wonders how Ellie has his number and why she's calling him.

"No, not Alice." Edward shakes his head, obviously confused, then looks over his shoulder at the door as another knock comes.

"It's your neighbour again," he says, turning back to me. "Her cat attacked the paper airplane when they got home and her grandson's upset. They're hoping I'll make another one." He shrugs as I stare. "Thin walls. Vampire hearing."

Then he smiles, a shy sort of smile and it is my antidote. My heart begins to slow, my anxiety fades and I take a breath as I give a shaky smile back. With a small squeeze of my hand Edward gets up and goes again to my notepad on the kitchen counter. Taking a fresh sheet of paper he folds two more little planes while I go to open the door.

"So sorry to disturb you again, Bella..."

Mrs Upshot is full of apologies, thank yous and tales of wayward cats. Nicholas' sniffles and tears turn to smiles as Edward sends his pair of new creations flying in elaborate swoops out of the apartment and into the hall. Nicholas runs after them and Mrs Upshot promises not to disturb us again.

"I've put Minerva outside now," she explains.

Edward waves goodnight as he closes the door behind them and I sag onto the sofa.

"I assume Minerva is the cat," Edward smirks. "And Mrs Upshot hasn't just evicted the Roman goddess of wisdom from her apartment."

I giggle and Edward cocks his head, smiling as he looks at me.

"Bella, what happened before?" he asks softly.

He comes towards me, crouching down by the sofa, meeting me at eye level. He hesitates then rests his hands gently on my knees. Though his hands are cold his careful touch sends warmth flowing through my body. "What happened?" he asks again, softer this time.

"Old habits," I shrug. But it's not explanation enough and I know it. Edward's eyes are searching and I sigh as I begin. "Okay. When we were back in Forks, it was always Alice calling. Usually with some sort of warning about a vision she'd had. And I'd just have to wait to see how much you'd tell me. The less you'd tell me the worse I knew it was."

I finish with another shrug and Edward watches me closely but his expression doesn't alter; it's almost as if my words haven't registered.

"Warnings?"

"Not always major things," I clarify. "We might be in the meadow and she'd call to say that a storm was coming. Or she'd see Charlie come home early on a day when I was meant to be studying and you weren't supposed to be over; she'd warn you to get your car out of the way so he didn't see."

"They don't sound like things to be worried about." Edward's words are cautious, like he's trying to understand.

"But there were other times," I shrug again. "Times when Alice would call and you'd just tell me it was nothing to worry about and then you'd suddenly change our plans. And I never knew why, but I just knew it was bad."

"I wouldn't tell you?"

"No."

Edward frowns. "That must have been...frustrating."

"Understatement," I whisper.

He rubs his hand along the side of his jaw, thoughtful. "I probably thought I was protecting you."

"You were," I smile. "I think, you know, after Tyler's van, and the guys in Port Angeles..." Edward's jaw tenses as he nods slowly and then stares down at the floor.

"I can understand wanting to keep you safe, I feel that way now," he murmurs. "The instinct to protect you is like nothing I've ever experienced...or remember experiencing." He lifts his eyes. "It's very strong."

My fingers caress his cheek. His eyes close and he turns his face into my touch.

"But I would have made you more vulnerable by keeping the truth from you," he whispers and gently kisses my palm.

It's a Eureka moment. Well, it feels that way to me, anyway. But I don't say anything. Judging by Edward's face as he looks back at me again I don't think I need to. Instead I reach up now and push the hair away from his eyes.

"And tonight you thought the phone call was related to whoever was at the door? You thought Alice was warning me about something?"

I nod and shift in my seat, drawing my legs up and hugging them now. "Actually, I thought it might have been Jake."

"Jacob Black?" Edward's eyes shoot open as I nod again.

"Because you've been in Forks. I thought the wolves might have picked up your scent and I wouldn't put it past Jake to come and see if I'm alright. He's kind of protective too and I thought Alice might have seen it."

Edward sits back on his heels and shakes his head.

"Unless he visited Charlie's place, or was in the woods around our house, he wouldn't know I'd been there."

"Oh."

There's silence now. It stretches between us and I don't like it. Edward seems lost in thought and I wish I knew what he was thinking.

"Would it matter if Jacob Black knew? Or your father?" he asks quietly after a moment. I lift my eyes and meet his steadily.

"No. Not at all."

The corner of Edward's mouth lifts - the beginning of a smile that slowly grows in brilliance until he's beaming at me. I lean forward and kiss him, my lips moving slowly, gently with his - tasting, discovering. His hands come up to weave through my hair, holding me. When I pull away to breathe he sighs, and I lean my forehead against his. His hands trail over my shoulders and arms and come to settle on my waist. I close my eyes and listen to the sound of my heart as it pounds for both of us.

"So, Jacob is protective of you, too?" Edward murmurs.

I open my eyes and meet his brilliant golden gaze. And though he doesn't speak I can see the question there. The question he will never ask me, but will no doubt always live at the back of his mind.

"He was a good friend to me when I needed one. It was never anything...more." But it was almost something more and I realise I'm fidgeting and my voice is hesitant. And of course Edward has picked up on this. He cocks his head slightly, and the new question in his eyes is joined by a flash of something else. I bite my lip, unsure what to do now, but because I don't want to leave Edward in any doubt, I decide to talk.

I tell him about the night Jake and I sat parked out the front of Charlie's house in the Rabbit.

"I did think about it," I whisper. "You'd been gone a while, and Jake filled a part of the hole that you left behind. It was just a small part, but I thought maybe if..." I shrug awkwardly, trying to read Edward's expression and failing. "When he leant in to kiss me that night I thought maybe I could move on...but it wasn't right. He wasn't you. So I hugged him instead and told him he was my best friend."

I bite my lip as I watch Edward's eyes, waiting for his reaction. Still, he gives nothing away, though the grip of his hands on my waist becomes firmer. He swallows, holding my gaze. After a long, long moment, he speaks, but the words are not what I expect.

"Sounds like me and Kate," he whispers.

"Kate?" _Kate? _

Edward's eyes are wary now as he watches me.

"Um...is...was..." My mouth has gone dry and the words stick in my throat.

"Kate is like me," Edward confirms. "She's part of the Denali family I told you about earlier and we stayed with them for a while last year." He lets go of my waist and sits back on his heels, watching me as he pulls a hand through his hair.

Kate.

He had someone else. My heart feels like it wants to curl up and die. I try to keep my face neutral as my jealousy smoulders and I tell myself I shouldn't feel this way...we weren't together last year; Edward didn't even remember who I was, but even so...

My hands crush the edges of the sofa cushion.

"For months my family had tip-toed around me," Edward goes on and his voice is so soft. "Everyone walked on egg shells and it just made me feel worse...it emphasised what had happened to me. But Kate didn't tip-toe. We've known each other for a long time and she treated me like nothing had happened and I liked that. I could talk with her and laugh and when we were together the things I'd lost didn't seem to matter quite so much. After a few weeks I began to wonder if our friendship could become something more."

My stomach is starting to twist itself in knots and I wonder now when he said our kiss was his first did he mean his first human kiss? And a masochistic part of my brain wants to know if he's still a virgin. Oh, I don't know if I want to hear this.

"Nothing happened," Edward says quickly. "Nothing." His eyes are huge, almost surprised, as if he's just realised how his words might sound. Slowly, relief trickles through me and begins to douse the jealousy

"Nothing?" I squeak.

Edward shakes his head slowly.

"But...you came close?" Like I did with Jake?

There's a beat before he nods.

"We'd go running together," he says. "And one day I took her hand. After feeling so lost and isolated for so long the contact was nice. I leant in to kiss her and for a moment I thought it was what I wanted. I think I knew, on some unconscious level, that I had been happy before. I think I was looking for that happiness again. I just didn't know where to find it."

"But you didn't kiss her? Or anything?"

"I turned away, like you did with Jacob. It felt wrong." He gives me a cautious half-smile and shrugs a shoulder. Now the relief crashes over me like a wave, drowning the jealousy and washing it away. "So I hugged her instead and offered her first go at the next bear we found."

My mouth drops open. "You offered her..." A surprised giggle escapes me. Edward's cautious smile gains confidence.

"It's the vampire equivalent of saying 'you're a good friend'," he says. Then he reaches out and takes my hand, threading his fingers through mine.

"Only you," he whispers and I smile, just as my stomach rumbles.

"You've not eaten?" Edward says suddenly. "Did you have dinner?"

My head spins with the sudden change of subject.

"Um, oh...no. No, I wasn't hungry before."

"But you are now?"

"I guess I am, yeah."

He stands quickly and goes to pick up his coat from where it lies across the stool.

"What are you doing, Edward?"

"Taking you to dinner."

"Oh..."

"After you've changed into something warmer."

He shrugs into his coat and I smile at this small familiar sign of the old Edward, taking charge.

"Just give me a minute," I say and go to wipe the freckles off my face and change my clothes.

-0-

We walk to a small restaurant called Knife, Fork, Spoon, just a few blocks away. Edward's arm is around me and he holds me close, tucked into his side. When I burrow closer I feel the sigh that rises and falls in his chest.

As we walk I try to get my head around all that has happened in the last hour or two - his return, his declarations. Kate. Again his admission comes to mind, but it merely flickers and then fades away. He knew all along he loved me - even without the memories, he knew.

I snuggle deeper and almost trip over my feet. Edward's arm tightens around me and I feel his lips in my hair.

Edward has said that all the decisions are mine and now I wonder exactly what he meant by that and whether it extends to my being changed. I open my mouth to ask but shut it again. It's too soon. And right now even I can't think about that. This surprises me. There was a time when being changed was all I wanted, I thought it was the answer to everything - but at this moment, with Edward beside me and his arm holding me close, I realise that for now this is all I need. I just want to enjoy having him back. So I let those thoughts go and pick up another.

"You said you were curious about something in my room in Forks," I remind him as we walk. "You were going to ask me about it before your phone rang."

"Oh...that." There's a smirk in his voice but he doesn't say anything more.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Edward!"

He chuckles and squeezes his arm around me.

"Later," he whispers, sending my curiosity soaring.

His phone buzzes in his pocket and he groans a little as he pulls it out and looks at the screen.

"I thought so," he mutters, and hits end call.

"Ellie?"

Edward nods as he stows the phone back in his coat and I realise that I never thought to ask him before why she had called him. And suddenly it's like Edward has read my mind, because he answers my silent question.

"I would guess she's drunk dialling from a party somewhere."

"Oh? Has she done that before?"

"Just once."

"I'm not used to people calling you. Except for your family."

"It happens," Edward smiles down at me. "Study groups mean swapping cell numbers."

He holds the door of the restaurant open for me and I walk inside.

I've never been here before but the intimate feel and soft lighting instantly appeals. Edward speaks quietly to the waitress who blushes and flusters. She shows us to a quiet table in a corner, hands Edward the menus and asks him if there's anything she can get him to drink. He frowns and turns to me.

"Bella, would you like something?"

Now the waitress realises she's been ignoring me and goes into instant damage control, dragging her eyes away from Edward, plastering a smile on her face and focussing on me. She scribbles down my request for coke and bites her lip when Edward asks her to make it two. Then she scurries away, looking back over her shoulder at us twice before she disappears into the kitchen. The whole scenario reminds me of Port Angeles and that night in the Bella Italia restaurant. Our drinks arrive, along with a jug of water and two glasses, and Edward studies me as I stir my coke with the straw.

"This is surreal," he says quietly. "Being here with you like this."

"Never taken a human to dinner before, huh?" I give him a wink and he smiles.

"Not that I remember, no. I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

"It frustrates me."

"I know."

He shakes his head. "No, you don't."

I sigh. "You're right, I don't."

The mood has shifted. Edward folds his hands on the table in front of him and stares at them.

"Everything you told me on Sunday, the things my family told me tonight...there's not even a flicker of recognition. Nothing."

His hands clench into fists and I reach over to cover them with mine. I can see the frustration in his face, I can feel it in the strain of his knuckles beneath my palm, but I don't know what to say. The waitress comes with our drinks and asks if she take our orders. Immediately Edward straightens, his hands relax and his features are smooth now, impassive. His mask is in place. I withdraw my hand and choose the first thing on the menu - avocado chicken parmigiana.

"Nothing for me, thank you." Edward offers the waitress a polite smile and she's flustered again.

"Um, you...you have to order something," she stammers. "It's restaurant policy."

"Garlic bread," he answers without missing a beat. He looks back at me.

The waitress' eyes are drinking Edward in but her voice is shaky. "Er, it's supposed to be a meal."

There is the barest eyeroll from Edward as he pushes the menu towards me.

"I can't decide...what looks good, Bella?"

I scan the choices, aware of what he's doing, and I pick something light that will go with my chicken.

"The summer salad with croutons sounds nice."

"I'll have the salad." Edward hands the menu back to the waitress.

"Just the salad?"

"Yes, thank you."

She nods, frowning a little, and hurries away to the kitchen. She doesn't look back this time.

"Was it like this other times I've taken you out to eat?" Edward leans forward as he asks.

"Sometimes," I smile. "We didn't do the restaurant thing very much."

He smiles and reaches out to take my hand. His mood has changed again, the conversation has taken a new direction and I can almost feel the familiar whiplash returning. His foot nudges mine gently under the table. I nudge him back.

"What are you smiling at?" he asks.

"You. You're still you, but you're different."

He cocks his head, waiting for me to elaborate, and those golden eyes drink me in. I feel myself drowning in them.

"Bella?"

"Mm? Oh...um, you're different."

"You said that."

"Stop smirking at me."

"Was I smirking?"

"You know you were."

He chuckles and sits back in his chair and again he nudges his foot against mine.

"You're more relaxed," I finally say. "But relaxed is the wrong word. I don't know what the right one is."

His head tilts to the other shoulder.

"It's like you've let go of something," I frown, almost speaking to myself now. "It always used to seem as though you were fighting something, fighting yourself, I think. You were so...intense before. You still are, but not so much."

Edward shrugs and looks away towards the kitchen. "I still have my moments," he murmurs.

"Oh, I'm sure you do." He hears the smile in my voice and looks back at me, smirking again. "You could win gold medals for brooding, Edward."

My words are a risk but the risk pays off. After a momentary look of surprise Edward throws back his head and laughs. And it's beautiful.

"I probably could," he says as he leans forward, elbows on the table now, face cradled in his hands.

I grin at him and lean forward too, mirroring his pose. "So what is the opposite of intense?"

"Moderate," he answers and I snort.

"Moderate? Okay, you seem more moderate now, Edward."

He gives me a bittersweet smile.

"Losing your mind will do that to you," he whispers and his words surprise me.

"You didn't lose your mind."

"Maybe not, but it felt like it. I think I might have come close." He shrugs. "My ability had made me lazy and arrogant and losing it was hard. I knew how much I figured in the thoughts of humans when they were around me and when I couldn't read those thoughts it was terrifying. For the first time I feared humans, and that fear verged on paranoia." For just a fleeting moment I see an echo of that fear in his eyes. "I feared what they were thinking, their motivations. I couldn't know if someone suspected what I was. I couldn't ward off unwanted attention. I was used to manipulating situations because I knew what people were thinking, but I couldn't do that anymore. I had to learn about trust. And how to use my instincts." He reaches over and touches my hand. "That's probably why I seem more moderate to you." He smirks now. "Because I'm trusting my instincts and my instincts tell me this, you and me, is right."

My fingers curl around his.

"So, do you think your instincts didn't tell you that before? About me? Us?"

He frowns. "I think I probably didn't know how to listen."

The waitress returns with our meals and I watch Edward poke at his salad with a fork.

"Alice said you're more impatient now, though. That doesn't seem to fit with the more moderate you."

The words come without thought and for a second I wonder if Edward will be offended. But he seems okay as he stabs a cherry tomato. "I am more impatient. And easily frustrated. Just not with you."

Oh.

"With your family?"

"Sometimes. They're used to me. And they're always quick to put me in my place. Especially Emmett." He rolls his eyes and I giggle.

"Good for Emmett."

Edward grins and holds out his fork with the cherry tomato on the end. I lean in and take it between my teeth.

"It feels strange, you knowing my family."

"Makes it easier to take me home to meet your folks."

"True," he smiles. "Was it awkward that first time? Were you afraid?"

"Only that they wouldn't like me."

I take a bite of chicken as Edward smiles and shakes his head. "You were worried they wouldn't like you," he mutters.

"Yep. And you made some unflattering comments about my sanity, if I recall."

"How rude of me."

"I thought so."

Edward holds out another tomato.

"And that was the first time I played the piano for you? The day I took you home?"

"It was."

I lean in and take the tomato and this time when I bite it squirts juice all over the red and white checks of the table cloth.

"Crap," I mutter and quickly wipe up the mess with my napkin.

"You said it was a lullaby." Edward is frowning and I know he's trying to remember.

"Bella's Lullaby," I smile and scrunch the napkin into a ball. "It's beautiful."

He nods, setting down his fork then looking up suddenly.

"Do you play an instrument?"

"Er, no. I'm not musical."

Another nod. "So much to learn," he murmurs.

On Sunday in the clearing, when the world was falling down around both of us, I told him everything about our relationship; everything from the moment I saw him in the cafeteria until Alice and Carlisle knocked on my door three weeks ago...but I kept to the facts, I hadn't gone into any depth of detail.

Edward wants that detail now. Not just the facts, but how I felt, what I thought, what led me to make this decision or that one.

Our voices are hushed, barely audible even to me as we lean across the table towards each other. Edward's elbows are on the table, his hands cupped around the back of his neck as he asks question after question and I answer. His eyes are hypnotic as he listens, drilling into me as if he'll find his lost memories in my words or my face. My meal begins to grow cold but I'm not hungry anymore and though my cutlery is in my hands my chicken sits mostly untouched on my plate.

Edward doesn't keep to a timeline. His questions are all out of order and my memories jump back and forth between the middle, the end and the beginning. It's draining, and I wouldn't have chosen a restaurant as the location for this conversation, but I'm not going to stop him. He wants to know. He needs to know.

My mouth becomes dry and as I finally stop talking to take a sip of coke Edward asks, very gently, if I would tell him exactly what happened the night he sucked James' venom from my wrist.

"But I understand if you'd rather not…"

"It's okay," I smile. And I tell him everything I remember; not just the facts which he already knows, but about the fear, the pain, and I tell him about the angel whose voice comforted me and whose lips pulled the fire from my veins.

"You said you were stronger than you thought," I whisper and reach out to take his hand.

Edward tries to smile but he doesn't quite make it. He drops his eyes as his hands come down from his neck and his fingers curl around mine. He watches his thumb strokes over my wrist. He is quiet. Very quiet. Around us the noise of the other diners seems loud all of a sudden. I take another sip of coke. The waitress is watching us, her eyes pinned to Edward's back, her admiring thoughts painted clearly across her face. Edward's eyes stay down, his hand gently squeezing mine, over and over, as though he needs to reassure himself against the details I've just planted in his brain. Under the table I nudge his foot gently. I see his lips quirk in a smile but his eyes are hidden beneath the hair that tumbles over his forehead.

"The spring dance!" he hisses suddenly and looks up. I can see his eyes now and they are huge with shock. Then I watch his eyes narrow and he cocks his head in that way he has…that vampire way.

"What about the spring dance?"

"Your leg would have still been in a cast." He's aghast. "And you told me tonight that you don't like dancing...so Bella, why did we go to the spring dance?"

I bite my lip and watch Edward's eyes widen again.

"I made you go, didn't I? Oh, dear Lord, I didn't make you dance with a cast, did I?"

When I don't answer he exhales sharply, lets go of my hand and sits back in his chair, staring at me.

"Why?" he mouths. "Why would I do that?"

"You didn't want me to miss out on anything by being with you," I say quickly, leaning forward and gripping his hand again. "You said it was an important part of being human." I shrug and Edward continues to stare.

"But you didn't want to go."

"Mm…no."

He blinks at me, mutters something to himself and shakes his head.

"Did I know you didn't want to go?"

"Edward, it doesn't matter now. It was years ago."

"Did I know?" His eyes are burning into me.

"Yes, you knew."

He watches me for a moment. His eyes harden.

"But you still got dressed up and went with me?"

I squirm in my seat, feeling uncomfortable now and with my free hand I pick up my fork and push my food around my plate.

"Bella…"

"I didn't know that you were taking me to the dance until we were almost at the school." The words spill quickly from my lips. "You had Alice get me dressed and ready; hair, make-up, everything, and I didn't even realize what was going on until we were in the car and on our way."

"I don't understand. What did you think was happening?"

My face flames with embarrassment. I don't want to tell him, but I know he won't let it go.

"I thought you were going to change me," I whisper.

Edward's mouth drops open but he shuts it again quickly.

"You thought that?"

I nod, picking at my napkin, tearing it to tiny shreds with one hand. My other hand is still in Edward's and I know he understands my embarrassment when his fingers squeeze gently against mine. He's very quiet and when I look up I see his eyes are bright, his lips almost smiling.

"And you thought being changed was a black-tie occasion?"

He's amused. And even though his words are gentle I am engulfed by exasperation and a familiar, burning embarrassment. I throw up my hands.

"You said that last time!" I hiss. "Yes, alright, it was very funny, Bella thought being changed into a vampire might have been marked as a special occasion. Lets all..."

"Ssh please..." Edward glares at me and suddenly I realise where we are. We both look around to see if my outburst, hushed though it was, has drawn attention. It seems it hasn't. No-one is looking. Edward and I turn back to each other.

"Sorry," I mumble.

"No, I'm sorry," he says quickly and his eyes are gentle now. "I didn't mean to laugh."

I wave away his apology.

"No, don't be. It was stupid of me to think that." I sigh and rub my hands over my face and a smile starts on my lips. "Looking back now, even I can see the funny side." I roll my eyes at the naivety of my seventeen year old self. Now Edward lets his smile free. And we're leaning in towards each other again.

"Do you mind if I ask…what did I say when you told me this?"

"That you wouldn't turn me into a soulless monster."

Edward frowns. He looks down as his fingers trace the pattern in the table cloth.

"Was that all I said?"

"Pretty much."

There is silence. My breathing shallows, my scalp prickles. I wonder where this is going.

"You said on Sunday that you had wanted me to change you but I wouldn't."

I nod. My foot is tapping nervously under the table - I don't think I want to talk about this right now.

"Was that always the way the conversation went?"

"Mostly, yes," I whisper. "You believed you were damned and you didn't want that for me."

Edward lifts his eyes. "What did you believe?"

"What did I believe?"

My foot stops tapping. My breath stills.

"The question surprises you?"

"Um, yeah. You never asked me that before."

"I never asked you?" He's incredulous.

"No."

"Then there was no discussion?"

"Not really, no."

He looks away and mutters under his breath again but I can't catch it this time.

"What do you believe Bella?" He turns back to me and his eyes change, piercing and determined now. I'm not sure where to start and it takes me a moment to gather my thoughts.

"I always believed you had a soul," I say quietly and speak what's in my heart. "It always seemed so obvious to me because of the way you loved me, and the way you loved your family. And because of your conscience, your decision to stop hunting humans." I watch him, trying to gauge his feelings, but I have no clue. "And I always believed I would keep mine if you changed me. But you thought differently."

Now Edward and I are like two sculptures, fixed in position, unmoving; only inches between us as we stare into each other's eyes. Even though my heart races it feels like a lifetime between beats as I wait for his response. Will he give me the same old argument? Or a new one?

"I was wrong," Edward says quietly after a moment. "You would keep your soul if I changed you."

His simple statement shocks me. The words bounce around in my head - they're unfamiliar and strange, almost like another language, and I'm not sure if I've heard right. I try to form words of my own, questions...but they just don't come. Instead I keep staring, my mouth hanging open like a guppy out of water.

"I know you would," Edward goes on. "Because I kept mine."

Now it feels like the air has been sucked from my lungs. From the room. I almost sag onto the floor and as my head spins I grip the edge of the table.

"You believe in your soul?" I finally manage to choke out, and Edward nods. I feel like there has been a shift in the universe - like some ancient truth has been proved wrong. Or maybe it's been proved right. I take another second to register Edward's news and now my questions come quickly, the words tumbling over each other in my haste to get them out. As I lean forward across the table and wave my hands Edward looks almost alarmed.

"But all that angst…and the …_the angst_…and the drama…we could have avoided…are you…? Seriously? Are you…when? How?" In my shock the words almost sound like accusations and Edward's eyes widen as he blinks at me. At last I manage a coherent sentence.

"When did you find your soul, Edward?"

"When someone stole my Volvo."

The words hit me like a freight train and I jerk back in my seat. They don't make sense. None at all. My mind is all disarray as I try to find the connection between Edward's immortal spirit and a luxury Scandinavian car. Edward still looks alarmed, he watches me with wary eyes. His last sentence is on repeat, going over and over in my head until, suddenly, it makes me angry.

"That's not funny, Edward!"

"Funny?" Now he jerks back in his chair.

"I believed you! How could you do that?"

"I'm not joking!"

"Don't treat me like an idiot!"

Edward's eyes flash. "I would never treat you like an idiot!" The hiss and anger in his voice pulls me up. I gape at him as he glares at me across the table.

"You're saying you're serious?"

"Deadly."

I blink at him.

"Really?"

"Really."

My anger fades, and apparently so does Edward's. He reaches out now to hold my hand and his eyes soften. "I know it sounds ridiculous."

"You're right, it does."

"If I can explain?"

"Please."

Edward nods and takes a heavy breath. My heart tightens in anticipation.

"One of my first outings back into the real world after my accident was to see a performance of Bach by the Vermont Symphony Orchestra," he begins. "I was hoping it would be a distraction for a while and maybe I'd find enjoyment in listening to the music without the intrusion of hundreds of thoughts. And I did. Those two hours were the most...restful I'd felt in weeks. But when I came out of the theatre afterwards my car was gone." His jaw tightens and I don't need to be a mind reader to know how that would have made him feel. My hand grips his harder and Edward's eyes drop to our clasped fingers. "People have thought about stealing my cars before, but I had always read their plans in their minds. But not this time, of course." I see the muscle in his jaw twitch as he lifts his gaze back to my face. "I had been able to read minds three miles away," he whispers. "The Volvo was five hundred feet away."

His face darkens and my heart twists. I know what this would have done to him. My eyes sting and burn as he continues.

"The anger I felt was frightening, but the humiliation was crippling. I didn't handle it very well."

"What happened?"

"I got home…" he rubs his free hand over his face. "And, to use Emmett's words…I lost my shit." He shrugs apologetically and I squeeze his hand. "I had put my family through hell since I'd lost my memory and my gift. I was angry and bitter and they put up with a lot from me...far more than they should have. But that night…" he bows his head. "That night was bad."

"Oh, Edward..."

"But their love for me has never wavered, even when I was at my worst. And that's what made me realise - looking into Esme's eyes that night after I'd put my fist through another wall." He stops and shakes his head. "Where I should have seen anger and reproach or even pity there was only love and compassion. It was more than I deserved." His head stays bowed, his eyes are closed. "She put her arms around me and held on. She told me that I wasn't alone. And I realized that night that there was no way Esme was a monster. All of my family, their love for each other, and for me...none of them were monsters."

"And if they weren't monsters?"

Edward raises his eyes. "Then maybe, neither was I."

Suddenly I'm out of my seat and climbing into Edward's lap. Relief and joy bubble through me as I throw my arms around his neck and I barely register his startled expression as he pushes back his chair to make room for me. His arms close around me as I press my face against his neck. Tears burn at the backs of my eyes.

I feel Edward's hand as it rubs over my back.

"Now people really will stare," he chuckles.

"Don't care. Let them," I mumble then pull back to see his face. His beautiful face that is smiling at me. His beautiful eyes. I touch his cheek.

"It was always so clear to me...you have a beautiful soul, Edward."

He actually looks shy, almost embarrassed as he gives the slightest of eye rolls.

"I don't know about beautiful," he mutters. "But there's something in there."

He pulls me close again.

Over his shoulder I see people are staring. The waitress scowling. A couple at a table in the far corner are watching us closely. A young guy asking for a table at the front desk is snickering.

I climb shyly off Edward's lap and he looks disappointed to see me go.

"Um, I'm not usually one for such outrageous public displays," I mumble.

Edward's eyes twinkle. "Pity," he says. "I rather liked your outrageous public display."

My lips part in surprise and my face heats. Edward is holding my hand and he squeezes it before he lets go.

As I sit down again I'm grinning, shaking my head in glorious disbelief...he believes he has a soul...but Edward has become serious

"I hadn't anticipated this conversation," he murmurs. "At least, not now. Not tonight."

"I hadn't either."

"Bella..."

"We don't need to talk about it now, Edward." I don't want to think about anything but the fact that he's back, and he loves me. "This is enough right now."

His expression warms and he takes my hand; his thumb strokes softly over my skin.

"But we do need to discuss it," he whispers. "And when we do, I promise I'll listen." He pulls his free hand through his hair and there is a flash of anxiety across his face. "It seems I wasn't a very good boyfriend to you when we were back in Forks."

The simplicity of his statement hits me. I'm about to disagree with him but I also realise there is some truth in what he has just said.

"You had your good points," I smile and Edward's lips quirk. "And I wasn't exactly perfect. I wasn't very good at listening, either."

Edward lifts my hand and kisses it, then turns suddenly to look over his shoulder.

"The waitress is coming," he frowns.

The waitress takes our plates and begins to talk about dessert but Edward asks for the check. She brings it to him a moment later and he pays, ignoring the way she flusters and blushes around him. I understand the Edward Cullen effect too well and I almost feel sorry for her. Then he helps me to my feet, curls his arm around me, and we walk out the door.

The night is milder now and we take a slightly longer route home so we can look at the some of the elaborate Halloween displays on the lawns of houses nearby. My head is spinning after our dinner conversation. Edward has given me so much to take in, and it's good now to be out in the fresh air. My mind begins to clear and while I know there is more to discuss I'm just taking each moment as it comes. And right now, at this moment, we're looking at Halloween decorations.

We walk slowly, easily, hand-in-hand. We talk little, only commenting here and there on some of the more elaborate displays. The smile never leaves Edward's face. Every now and then I feel his lips in my hair.

Most of the younger trick-or-treaters are home sorting their candy by now, but the streets still bustle with older kids in costume, laughing and having fun. We watch a battle of water balloons and flour bombs between Count Dracula and the chainsaw guy from that massacre movie and we laugh when the Count cops a bomb to the face and his fangs fly free. We watch as they bounce across the footpath to the gutter.

"I always hate it when that happens," Edward grins and tows me out of the path of danger.

We stop outside a house where the lawn has been turned into a very convincing grave yard and the front door is the shape of a coffin lid. A ghostly sheet, strung up by wires, appears suddenly from behind a head stone.

"Boo," Edward whispers in my ear and I giggle.

"Very scary." I nudge him in the ribs and he chuckles. "Did you trick-or-treat when you were a boy?"

"People didn't really do that then. There were parties, though, sometimes. And decorations. I think I remember..." he stops for a moment, frowning, clearly reaching back into his human past. "I remember carving a pumpkin with my father." The frown melts into a smile. "It had two faces, a scary one and a happy one."

"That sounds cool," I beam at him.

"It was. Very cool. But back then I would have said it was _swell_."

"Swell? Really?"

He grins down at me.

"Yep. Swell."

I giggle as we walk on and when we come to the corner Edward looks in both directions.

"There are some more displays to the right...you want to take a look?"

I look up at him and grin. "Sure," I say. "That'd be swell." And I laugh when he rolls his eyes.

-0-

Back in my apartment Edward drapes his coat over the stool again and I drop my jacket on the sofa. I put some music on – some soft jazz with a mellow clarinet. As the warm notes fill the room Edward comes towards me. He pulls me gently to him, my back to his chest, and winds his arms around me. Before I realise it we're moving gently in time to the music.

Edward rests his chin on my shoulder and I hear his voice, like velvet, in my ear.

"Is this alright? We're not dancing," he assures me. "We're swaying."

"Mm..." I sigh as I rest my hands over his. He chuckles softly and it rumbles in his chest - I can feel its vibration through my back.

"Remember the jazz festival on Sunday?" he whispers and his breath is cool against my neck.

"I wanted to hold you like this then, when we were listening to that band with the guitars."

"You could have held me."

I feel the shake of his head as his chin moves against my shoulder.

"Not without telling you who I was."

I squeeze my hands over his.

"I think that was one of the things that angered me most," he whispers and I turn, facing him now, and his arms pull me close.

"What made you angry?"

"Not having the chance to tell you myself." He lifts one hand to caress my cheek, his eyes a mixture of sweet and sad as he smiles. "I knew I loved you. I'd already decided by then to tell you the truth. Of course I was terrified of what your reaction would be, but I was so ready to have you know me. All of me."

Oh...

"Tell me now," I say quickly. "Tell me what you were going to say."

He frowns. "But you know."

"No," I shake my head. "You've never actually told me. I worked it out myself the first time. And it was a tense conversation and you were angry and confused." I pause and smile up at him. "I want to hear you say it. Please? I've never had that."

Edward's lips tug into a smile.

"I'm a vampire, Bella."

The words are barely a whisper. They caress his tongue and if they had been my introduction to the truth I know I wouldn't have been afraid.

He touches my cheek again. His eyes are so bright, so intense, burning with his admission.

"And I love you." He leans down, I feel his breath on my throat as his lips press a kiss over the pulse point. "You have become the most important thing in my world." His nose runs along my jaw, up to my ear. "You are my life." He kisses my temple. "I will never hurt you."

My eyes are closed, I'm barely breathing and it's only Edward's arms that are keeping me upright. I lean against them, my head back and Edward presses more kisses along the arch of my throat. When he reaches my collarbones I feel his smile against my skin. Then he straightens slowly, bringing me with him and cradling me against his chest.

"Wow," I breathe. "Well, that went better than last time."

Edward chuckles, low and deep.

"So, is that how you were planning to tell me?"

"There was some improvisation involved there."

"I like your improvisation."

I sigh and settle against him. The music swirls and flows and Edward sways us gently in time. Even when the CD ends we continue and make our own rhythm in the silence. Finally, my eyes feel heavy.

"You're tired," he whispers.

"I am. How do you know?"

"Your heart."

Will you stay with me?"

I look up into his face and he gives one slow nod, and then scoops me into his arms.

-0-

In my bedroom he sets me down and then pulls his hand through his hair as he looks around. His eyes take in the pictures on the wall, the mess on my dresser, and then land on the red ribbon that came with my snowglobe. It's tied around my bed post and he smiles.

"Um, I'll just be a minute," I tell him. I grab my camisole and sleep shorts from the drawer and wish they were fancier as I head towards the bathroom.

I shower quickly and brush my teeth and comb my hair. My heart is hammering, my blood is singing and the thought of falling asleep in Edward's arms again fills me with such bliss I could almost cry. It's almost too much.

When I head back into the bedroom I feel shy. The old Edward has seen me dressed like this before, but the new Edward hasn't. He is sitting on the end of the double bed, smiling. Shoes, socks and sweater discarded, he is wearing just his jeans and a plain white t-shirt. His hair is more tousled, no doubt from dragging his sweater over it, and he looks so beautiful in the soft light that my knees actually feel weak.

"Hi," he whispers, and he seems shy too.

He stands as I move to the bed and I see he's pulled back the covers for me. I climb between the sheets and Edward's fingers find his hair again. He frowns.

"Do I...I know you said that back in Forks..." He stops when I hold the covers open for him, answering his question. He smiles and slides in beside me. As he lays down he pulls me to him and tangles his feet with mine, just like he used to. It's so natural, so smooth...his body remembers, even if his mind doesn't. I smile and he seems to realise what he's just done. He smiles too.

"This feels...right," he says. "Is it okay?"

"Mm...this is okay."

We share the same pillow, our faces close and his breath mingles with mine as his eyes fall to my lips. I inch closer and he moves in too, ours noses touching and nudging and we smile before his eyes close and he kisses me softly, tenderly, his lips moving over mine and my arms winding around him. I kiss him back, my body arching into his, my fingers twisting in his hair. He moans. The sound hums on my lips and resonates deep in my body.

"Bella..." he breathes before he takes his lips away and nuzzles against my neck.

I'm breathless. Edward clings to me like it would kill him to let go and I cradle his head to my chest now so he can feel the raging of my heart beneath his cheek. He curls his body into mine and I blow softly on his hair, watching the strands flutter and lift.

Edward has come into my bed before, but never quiet like this. There is something different - a quiet surrender, his own silent acceptance of his feelings; there is no guilt here, no doubts, no fear. I scratch my fingernails over the back of his neck. He moans again.

"You always liked that," I whisper and he sighs.

We lay very still and I give myself to the bliss of the moment. I feel the soft in and out of his breath against my skin. I close my eyes and let myself drift.

"Bella?"

"Mm?"

"I was wondering about something in your old room."

I'd almost forgotten about that and my eyes open as curiosity takes over and I wait to hear what Edward is going to say. He reaches up and nudges my hand that sits still now on his neck.

"More scratching," he whispers and I giggle.

"Only if you tell me what has you curious."

He grins and slowly opens his eyes. They blaze gold as he stares up at me.

"It was your bed."

"My bed had you curious?"

He nods and I think of my bed - wooden bed head, purple quilt, nothing remarkable.

"It's a single," Edward murmurs. "Was it always a single?"

"Oh, um, yes."

He nods and shifts, moving up the bed a little so he's back on the pillow, his face just a breath away. But his legs are still draped over mine, his arm still curves around my waist. I watch his throat as he swallows.

"When I used to stay all night with you...I stayed in your bed."

"Yes."

"We would have been very close."

"Yes."

Our eyes are locked. There are barely inches between us. Edward takes a slow, deliberate breath.

"Bella, were we intimate?"

His eyes never stray from my face and suddenly my heart is thundering like it will burst free of my chest any second.

"No," I whisper. "We weren't."

He nods again but doesn't say anything.

"I did ask you about it," I whisper. "But you said it wasn't possible for us. It would be too dangerous for me."

There is more silence. Edward's expression gives nothing away. Every beat of my heart is heavy now as I wait for him to speak. After a moment his words come slowly, carefully.

"If your scent affected me as you've described, then yes, it would have been very dangerous."

His hand grips me a little tighter and he frowns, his eyes fixed now on a point over my shoulder...the window perhaps. "So I would have been prepared to let you live your life without sex." It's like he's talking to himself and I'm sure he is when I hear him mutter something under his breath. It sounds like selfish bastard.

Edward's eyes close again and I'm not sure what to say.

"I don't think you thought we would last that long," I admit softly. "Looking back, I get the feeling that, even before we broke up, you thought I would eventually want other things and

leave."

Edward nods, eyes still closed and there is a question burning on my lips.

"Um, so, if my scent is different now..." I leave the thought hanging between us but gasp softly when Edward opens his eyes. The desire there is unmistakable and I feel the heat scorch through my veins. Beneath the sheets I rub my legs against Edward's.

"There would still be risk," he whispers. "That doesn't change just because your scent has. My strength is an issue. I would always have to be so careful with you."

I can barely form words, but manage to nod my head.

Edward's eyes move back and forth between mine. His hand squeezes softly over my waist.

"But my instinct tells me I would never hurt you."

My heart somersaults in my chest. My lips split into a grin. And my body feels like there is fire blazing beneath my skin.

Edward leans in and kisses me sweetly, chastely, which, of course, does nothing to calm me.

"It's hard to explain," he smiles, pulling back and stroking his hand along my side. "I've only just met you, yet here I am, sharing your bed and...it doesn't feel too soon."

I don't think my grin could get any wider. He leans in and kisses me again, not so chastely this time. His hands move over my back, my side. His feet glide over my bare legs. His kiss consumes me, it tastes of freedom and life and joy.

I'm so caught up that without thinking I slide my fingers under the hem of his t-shirt and just barely graze the skin of his torso. Edward hisses and I gasp, pulling back and withdrawing my hand quickly. He opens his eyes and they're dark, almost to black.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "Did I do something wrong?"

"You? No, not you...I thought I did something wrong. Did I go too far?"

Edward blinks at me. "I don't know. What's too far?"

I feel my face flaming and I know that even in the dark Edward will see my blush.

"I don't know either," I whisper. "You never let me touch you under your shirt before."

There is a moment of perfect silence and then Edward's next words send my heart rocketing through the roof.

"It felt good."

"Did it?"

He nods slowly, his hair mussing up against the pillow.

"It's been quite an evening," he muses. "It feels like we've gone from zero to sixty when we should just be getting out of first gear."

"You're having trouble keeping up?"

"No," he shakes his head. "No, I'm keeping up just fine. I think that's what is surprising to me...how quickly things have moved, but how right they feel."

"So, you think one day we could take this further?"

Edward's eyes burn as he nods. "I want to be with you," he whispers.

My gasp fills the room, and is then overtaken by the frantic pounding of my heart.

"But there are things to consider," he adds.

"Mm, like what?" Perhaps the coldness of his body? Or safe positions? My face flames at that thought. Maybe location?

"Birth control."

My eyes snap wide and I stare at him, not sure I heard right.

"Did you say birth control?"

He nods and suddenly seems self-conscious. I sit up quickly, the sheet rumples around my waist as I stare down at him, lying on my pillow.

"But I thought you couldn't..."

Edward gives an apologetic smile.

"Actually, there's a possibility I can."

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who is reading, reviewing and recommending this story. I appreciate your support so much :) And thank you to Melanie for betaing and lots of laughs :)**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**This chapter is much shorter than the others, but I think it needed to stand alone. Apologies for the long wait.**

**-0- -0- -0- -0- -0- -0- -0-**

_**Waiting for Bella's Reaction...Edward's Point of View**_

Edward was sure there must have been a better way, a better time, to break this news to Bella. Though it wasn't really news. It was a theory. A macabre possibility to which he had given no thought or consideration...until now.

Bella was still staring. Still silent. Edward swallowed hard and wondered if he had just blown everything. The silence between them was only four seconds long, but each second felt like a lifetime. A vampire lifetime.

He stayed very still as he watched the shock play over Bella's face. It was too much, he decided. Tonight had been too much, there had been too many shocks, too much to process. And now he'd gone too far. They shouldn't be having the sex talk so soon. So soon? He'd never thought they'd have it at all. He never thought he'd have _this evening. _

The whole evening had just _happened, _it had evolved like some living, dynamic thing, like the universe had plans it hadn't told him about and was taking him in directions he could never have anticipated.

And suddenly he was talking about birth control.

The four seconds became five.

He shouldn't be here like this, he decided. He had let his heart and his feelings rule his head. He shouldn't have climbed into her bed and tangled his legs with hers and pulled her against his chest...oh, but he had wanted to. He had wanted to very much, and in his heart it felt right, and even long overdue somehow, though his Edwardian-era morals told him it was wrong.

But he reminded himself that this wasn't 1918. And morals should not come from an etiquette book on the shelf. They should come from the heart. They should come from knowing what is right and what is wrong.

And being with Bella felt right.

Right now he wished fiercely that he could read her mind. He tried to read her face but he couldn't. She still wore the blank stare of shock.

The five seconds became six.

"You can have children?"

Finally, she spoke. And at last Edward exhaled. His breath came out slow and easy as he sat up. His hair was more tousled than usual from rubbing against the pillow and it flopped lazily over his forehead. He pushed it back with his long fingers; his eyes never leaving hers.

"I don't know for certain," he said. "It's a theory based on myths and it is probably nothing more than that - a myth." His eyes darted between hers, searching for clues and coming up empty. "But I don't think the risk would be worth taking." He reached out carefully to touch her hand, afraid she might pull away, but she didn't. "I would never do anything to risk you."

Bella looked down at his fingers resting softly on top of hers.

"Myths?" she frowned.

"Of the incubus."

"Oh," she nodded. "Incubus. Yeah, I know that word."

Her answer surprised him, though he knew it probably shouldn't. He wondered if he'd mentioned it to her before. There were a lot of things he wondered. A lot of things he didn't know.

"Have we talked about...?"

"No," she shook her head and looked up at him now. Her face was pale, but she didn't look scared. "No, back in Forks, when I was trying to work out what you were, after you stopped the van, I began searching on the internet. There were stories..."

"Gruesome stories with deadly results," he muttered darkly.

"Yeah. Pretty much." She gave a shaky laugh and tucked her hair behind her ears. "Okay, um...so, you're saying...you might..." She closed her eyes and shook her head. The words clearly weren't coming. She gave another quick laugh. "It's like, after everything else tonight my brain has put up a _No Vacancy_ sign and its turning any new information away."

Edward smiled, it was a good description he thought. Tonight there had been a lot to take in. His own brain was still reeling.

"Shall I just go ahead and explain?" he asked.

"Yeah. I think that's probably the best idea."

Edward kept hold of Bella's hand. He liked feeling her skin against his.

"It was after I lost my memory and the mind reading," he began. "Carlisle, being Carlisle, started researching, trying to understand what had happened to me. He had his own theories but they could only be based on what he knew of human memory loss."

As Edward paused Bella sank down onto the pillow. He could see the weariness on her face and released her hand though he missed the contact. He was tempted to lay beside her but stayed upright and cross-legged - the sheets rumpled around him. He wondered if perhaps she needed some distance. His hair fell over his eyes again and he pushed it back.

"Keep going," Bella smiled. "I'm just kind of tired. It's been a big night." She reached out and rested her hand on his knee. Edward smiled and kept talking.

"Carlisle spent months studying old texts and archives but couldn't find anything. So he made contact with some other covens that we know in Ireland and South America and Romania. They hadn't heard anything like my situation before but the Brazilian coven suggested he try to find a vampire called Joham. They knew him by reputation - as a human he'd been a scientist with an interest in the occult and he'd continued his scientific studies after his transformation. Apparently those studies focused on vampire abilities and gifts and they thought if anyone could help, it would be him."

"Did Carlisle find Joham?"

Edward shook his head. "No. But he has learned some interesting things about him." Now Edward began to play with the edge of the sheet, folding its hem into sharp, even pleats between his fingers. Bella sat us suddenly, facing him, her weariness apparently gone.

"Don't stop there. What things?"

Edward's eyes stayed on his fingers.

"Joham's scientific interests apparently include investigating the potential for a vampire-human hybrid."

"So, you're saying it _is _possible?" Bella's voice hushed and Edward released the sheet as he looked into her eyes that were huge with questions and fresh shock.

"I think that if such a thing could happen we would have known about it before now. It's possible Joham might have tested his theory but there's no evidence to say the theory was proved."

Bella was silent again, but thankfully only for two seconds this time.

"But it's not worth the risk," she murmured.

"No," Edward agreed firmly. "No, it's not."

Bella sank back onto her pillow. This time Edward joined her, but kept his head on his own pillow, watching her as she stared up at the ceiling. He studied her face, noting the slight pursing of her lips and the small V that sat between her brows - it was a thoughtful face, not a frightened one, he decided. That was a good sign. His body relaxed slightly as he waited for her to say something.

"I'm on the pill," she whispered to the light fitting above them. "Would that be enough?"

Whatever he'd thought she might say, it wasn't that. Immediately his mind raced with questions - how long had she been on it? And why? She'd told him nothing had happened with Jacob Black, but had there been someone else? Someone in Florida? Edward felt his dead heart turn to ash. But when Bella turned to him his face was as neutral and smooth as if she'd just told him she thought it might rain. It was none of his business, he knew that. And whatever had happened before didn't matter, she was with him now.

But still...

"Irregular cycle," she explained. "I only started three weeks ago."

"Oh." He blinked slowly. "I think...I think that would be enough."

They both looked at the ceiling and Edward's heart re-grouped quickly. His lips twitched with a smile. There had been no-one else. Then he screwed his eyes shut and tried to ignore the caveman that had suddenly reared his head. He tried hard, but the caveman still smiled

"Does Carlisle agree with you?" Bella asked quietly. "About it probably not being possible?"

Edward nodded. "He and I, all my family, we're skeptical, but Carlisle likes to gather knowledge, he's a researcher and it has him curious. Especially since another letter came from the Brazilian coven last week."

"Oh?"

Edward's fingers glided back and forth between Bella's and the feeling sent tingles along his arm. It was like tiny sparks of electricity and it made him feel alive.

"They've heard word of a remote village where the people know about our kind and where Joham apparently visits from time to time. Of course that could mean once every hundred years, but Carlisle is going to make contact, see if he can learn anything more."

"About your memory, or the..."

"Both."

They fell into silence again.

"Will you go there?" Bella asked, turning to face him now.

"I don't know," Edward whispered. "I'm not thinking very far ahead right now."

His fingers kept up the slow movement between hers. Beneath the sheets her toes made slow passes along his instep, causing shivers and smiles.

"That feels nice," he whispered.

"Good," she whispered back.

He squeezed her hand and lifted it to his lips so he could kiss each of her knuckles.

"If you want to change your mind..."

"About what?" she cut him off quickly, her eyes almost startled.

"About...me. Us."

Bella snorted and rolled her eyes for added emphasis. Edward got the message loud and clear. He smiled hugely.

"No. No mind changing. Not at all. Okay?"

"Okay." He smiled some more.

"And I agree with you. If it was possible you probably would have heard about it before now. But we won't take any risks."

He kissed her hand again, opening her fingers gently this time so he could graze his lips across her palm. Her heart fluttered in time with her eyelids.

"Um, so..." She was flustered as he laid their hands back on the mattress between them. "Um, so, do you have any more bombshells for me tonight, Edward?"

"No," he smiled. "I think that's everything."

"Good."

She nudged her nose against his playfully, then kissed him softly. He kissed her back and enjoyed the sound of her heart.

"Bella?"

"Mm?"

"The song I wrote for you, the lullaby?"

"Mm?"

She pulled back and looked at him, at the sweet sadness he knew was in his eyes.

"Would you hum it for me?"

He saw the tears start to pool in her eyes as she nodded. He pulled her into his arms and laid her head against his chest, cradling her there. Then he closed his eyes and listened.

"Do you remember it?" she asked when she'd finished. Edward shook his head slowly.

"I was hoping I would, but no."

"Did you like it?"

He smiled as he pushed some hair back from her face.

"It's beautiful," he said, and he wasn't talking just about the lullaby. "It's very like what I would write for you now."

"Really?"

"But perhaps without the sadness at the end."

"There's sadness? I've never heard that."

"I can hear it." He touched her cheek. "Like the light would eventually return to dark."

"You don't believe that now, do you?"

"No. Not now."

He leant in to kiss her. He began slowly, savouring the feel of her lips beneath his, their softness, their warmth. But the warmth became fire, it built and roared, igniting him from the inside and when Bella pressed her body against him he pulled back sharply.

"Bella..." His breathing was fast through his parted lips.

Bella's eyes opened, she was breathless, her lips swollen and he reached up to touch the bottom one, tracing it gently with his trembling finger.

"Bella, I meant it when I said I want to be with you..."

He trailed off and Bella finished his sentence.

"But you're not ready?"

"I...not tonight."

She smiled and nodded, blowing some stray hair out of her face.

"This is a bit too fast?"

"I don't know...I think so." But her pulled her close, nestling her against him, flexing his arms around her. "It's not that I don't want to. I do."

"I know. I kind of got that impression." He felt her blush against him and he groaned softly. He knew the impression she meant...she would have felt it pressing against her hip just before he pulled back.

"I think I just need to slow down a bit. I need to..."

"It's okay. I understand," Bella pulled back from his chest and smiled into his eyes. "Why don't we just let nature take its course?"

There was a beat of silence before Edward nodded slowly. Then he wrapped her tightly in his arms again.

"I love you," he whispered. And then he hummed her to sleep with her lullaby.

-0-

While Bella slept Edward thought. He went over all she had told him and he felt ashamed. He'd been so high-handed with her. So superior.

So controlling.

He'd made her go to the spring dance with her leg in a cast. He'd had Alice dress her up like she was a doll.

He hadn't listened to her.

He wondered what he'd seen when he looked at her back then. It couldn't have been what he saw now - her strength, her courage, her confidence.

He groaned silently.

What sort of asshole had he been?

A lucky one, as it turned out, because she still wanted him, despite everything he'd done. And not done.

In some ways he hoped he would never regain his memory.

Bella's body was starting to cool so he untangled himself and tucked the blanket between them then curled around her once more.

He kissed her temple. In her sleep she smiled and sighed.

Edward sighed too.

He couldn't believe all they'd talked about tonight. And he'd come so close to making love to her. But not tonight. Not here in her small apartment with cracks in the ceiling. He needed to plan. He would make it special. And he would make sure it was somewhere warm. He grimaced - unfortunately practicality had to go hand in hand with romance.

But more than that he needed to prepare himself because there were things to consider apart from contraception. He'd told her his strength was a factor, he would need to think what position would be safest for her. For them. And he wanted to take his time, not rush like the adolescent he was. That was something else to think about...endurance. And technique. Would he please her? He bowed his head and kissed her bare shoulder. He hoped so.

The moon shifted across the sky and when dawn wasn't too far away Edward remembered Bella's truck. He'd told her he'd go back and get it while she was sleeping so quietly, reluctantly, he uncurled himself and got up from her bed.

"I'll be right back," he whispered, and then let himself out of the apartment.

It took him roughly two minutes to run the miles back to the warehouse. The building was in darkness now and looked desolate with empty cans and withered streamers littering its doorstep.

The trip back to Bella was longer. Edward obeyed the speed limit and the traffic lights - he didn't want to bring notice to himself by speeding, even at this time at the morning.

Fifteen minutes after he'd left Edward walked up Bella's stairs, two at a time, and was surprised when he heard the sound of her heart...she was awake and apparently sitting in the living room.

"Hi," she whispered, smiling, when he opened the door.

"You're awake." He went and crouched on the floor beside her. She was in a blue bathrobe with yellow ducks on it. With her mussed up hair and sleepy smile she was beyond adorable.

"I woke up and you were gone," she yawned. "Where did you go?"

"To get your truck," he frowned and Bella rolled her eyes.

"Of course, I forgot about that. Thank you."

She leant forward and kissed his forehead. She yawned again and followed it with a giggle.

"Don't worry, you're not boring me. Just still a bit sleepy."

But Edward wasn't laughing.

"You'd forgotten?"

"Yes." she frowned. "That bothers you?"

"So when you woke up did you...you thought I'd left you?"

The horror that swept over him was crippling. He felt his heart crack open

"No!" Bella answered quickly, loudly, clearly seeing the pain in his eyes. "No! Not at all. I knew you'd be back, Edward I knew. I just thought maybe you'd gone to hunt, or to see your family." Bella took his face between her hands. "Edward, I trust you."

Her words hit him hard, knocking the air from his body like a wrecking ball.

"I trust you. I do. I know you won't leave me. This is it for us, right?"

He nodded dumbly, her words sinking in slowly, seeing the truth of them in her eyes.

She trusted him.

Trust.

Her trust meant as much to him as her love. Trust was everything. And after what he'd done he'd thought he'd have to earn it back.

"You trust me." His voice shook.

"Yes."

"Oh..."

He groaned and pulled her to him, crushing her to him, his mouth hard and urgent on hers. Her words were like fire, igniting him all over again but this time he didn't want to stop. His kiss intensified and without breaking the contact he rose to his knees and lifted Bella into his arms, carrying her back into the bedroom, flicking the switch for the heat on his way. Only when he laid her on the bed did his kiss end.

Bella looked up at him, breathless, eyes wide.

"What are you doing?" she breathed.

"I'm letting nature take its course."

He shed his coat and knelt on the bed as he pulled his t-shirt over his head while Bella's eyes dilated and burned. His eyes devoured her, his hands caressing her skin as he undressed her, adoring every inch of her that he exposed until she lay naked before him, panting.

"Please," she whispered and Edward groaned. His jeans went the way of his t-shirt.

Going purely on instinct, his plans for safe positions and romantic locations vanished. His teenage uncertainty was gone. He laid his body along hers, his fingers slow-dancing along her bare skin, his lips discovering, making her gasp and moan. Her hands roamed the contours of his body, exploring and touching, his muscles trembling beneath her touch. He rolled her on top of him and she kissed over his chest and his hips moved subtly, rolling gently beneath her, in time with his fingers down her spine. He was caught in the delicate rhythm they'd created, their hips, her kisses, his fingers...so slow, so exquisite.

He sank his teeth into his lip.

"Please," she whispered again and rolled off him. He rolled with her, rising above her now and finding his place between her thighs. His forehead pressed to hers, he marvelled as her body opened for him, taking him, loving him. He groaned softly and slowly, and swallowed her sharp gasp with his lips. Then he kept still.

So still.

"I love you," he panted against her lips. "I love you."

His body shivered with equal parts desire and restraint...until Bella slowly began to move.

His growls came from deep in his chest. He was the string to Bella's bow and as she played him his body sang. His love was in every move, every thrust, taking the love she gave to him and giving it back, giving more, wanting more...and more...and more...and more...until Bella cried out and then he could bear no more...his world exploded and his body broke and his heart was consumed.

"Oh, God...Bella..."

His arms crumpled as his body collapsed beside hers.

He couldn't speak. There were tears on Bella's cheeks but she was smiling as he curled around her, bringing her in to him as closely as he could. He wanted to tell her what he felt, but he couldn't, there were no words, in any language. So he let his body do the talking for him and brought her even closer. He didn't know where he ended and she began.

"I love you," she whispered.

He wanted to ask if she was alright, but right now, in this moment, as he tilted her chin and saw the joy in her eyes he knew the question was unnecessary. She was more than alright. So instead he told her he loved her too. Then he kissed her very slowly for a very long time. And when the sun rose in the sky just a little while later, it was no match for the smile on Edward's face.

**A/N: The information about Joham's human history comes from The Twilight Saga: Official Illustrated Guide.**

**UPDATED A/N 27.4.12: Hi :) I've had quite a few comments about Bella not being fully protected if she's only been on the pill for three weeks. I based that on my own experience and the pill I took which provided full protection after only two weeks. But ****I know there are different pills with different hormone levels, so I'm guessing that is why some pills need to be taken for a whole cycle or two before they become effective. Interesting :) **

**I'll get the next chapter up as soon as I can, but things are very busy this end right now so it could be a little while. But I thought this was a nice place to leave things for the time being.**

**Thank you to Edward'sEternal for all her support. You're a star :)**

**And thank you to everyone who's reading and reviewing - it really means a lot. I'm trying to answer every review, but if I haven't got to yours yet, please know I read them all and appreciate them so much. Thank you.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**I know it's been a while...sorry about that and thank you for your patience. To make up for the wait I've written you a long chapter, over ten thousand words :) **

**Last chapter we left Bella and Edward basking in the after-glow of their lovemaking. Now let's see what happens the next morning ...**

**-0- -0- -0- -0- -0- -0- -0- -0-**

I wake to the touch of a cool leg sliding gently between mine.

Smiling, eyes still closed, I snuggle deeper into the arms that hold me. I press closer to the chest that has become my pillow.

"Good morning," Edward whispers. His fingers trail softly through my hair, he presses his lips to my forehead and I kiss over his heart. He sighs. His foot grazes lazily over mine.

My eyes open and I am rewarded with a beaming smile of heartbreaking beauty and wonder that hits me like a blaze of sunlight.

We stare at each other, a moment of perfect peace and smiles and fingertips caressing bare skin.

"Did last night really happen?" I whisper.

"Last night really happened," he whispers back and kisses me softly before pulling me closer. He trails his hand along the length of my spine, a slow pattern, up and down, up and down…

"How do you feel this morning?" he asks.

I giggle and stretch and watch his eyes watching me.

"Like I've come unhinged."

There is a flash of confusion and concern in his eyes. "Is that a good thing?"

"It feels like a very good thing."

His smile is back and brilliant once more.

"You changed your mind," I murmur and snuggle into him again.

"It wasn't a conscious decision." His voice rumbles softly in his chest beneath my cheek. He sighs and his hand stills in the middle of my back as I wait for his answer. "It just sort of happened. I wanted to be with you but it seemed too soon, there were things…" he shakes his head. "But when you said you trusted me…" He tilts my face so he can see my eyes. "I can't explain how that felt."

"I think you showed me," I smile and he is gorgeous when he smiles back shyly and bites his lip.

Rolling onto his back he tucks one arm behind his head while his other arm keeps me close and he stares at the cracks in my ceiling.

"So how do _you _feel this morning?" I ask.

He shakes his head and smiles.

"Unhinged," he whispers. Then the smile fades, his face becomes serious. "Last night surpassed anything I could have imagined. To be so close..." He pauses, looking down into my eyes now. "To be part of you that way, not knowing where I ended and you began. I wish I could tell you how it felt in here." He takes my hand and presses it over his heart. "But I can't." He lifts my hand and kisses my palm. "It was the best night of my existence."

I don't think my heart could be any fuller, the love, the happiness I feel almost hurts. I blink back some tears, fast, because I don't want to miss the beautiful smile on his face, or the joy that shines in his eyes.

"So you weren't worried about hurting me?"

"Every second," he whispers without hesitation and his eyes travel to the headboard above us. "I'll buy you a new one," he says apologetically.

Puzzled, I lift my head to see and I stare, shocked, at the gouges in the wood; the deep grooves that so obviously match Edward's fingers; the jagged, broken bedpost and the splinters that scatter over the floor. Then I stare back at Edward, not quite understanding. He sits up, the sheet rumples loosely around his hips and I'm distracted, but just for a moment.

"There was too much…" he frowns and pulls his hand through his hair. "Too much energy?" He shakes his head. "Too much feeling - I think that's the only way to describe it." His eyes drift to the headboard again. "It was everything, all at once..."

I stop him right there, grabbing his face between my hands and kissing him hard. When I pull back he looks surprised…and a little dazzled.

"Thank you," I whisper, my hands still cupping his face. "For keeping me safe."

He shakes his head, lost for words it seems as I look back at the headboard and laugh.

"How did I not notice that happening?"

He shrugs a shoulder and the corner of his mouth hints at a smirk. "You were distracted," he says. But the smirk quickly fades and he frowns again. "This wasn't how I would have planned things." He looks around at my small room with the clothes thrown over the chair, the books piled haphazardly on my nightstand and another pile on my dresser. My bag hanging off the doorknob. The dresser that doesn't match the bed. For a moment I think I'm seeing a flash of the old Edward, the brooding is creeping back, my heart starts to tighten…and then he smiles and brings his gaze back to me. Sitting opposite each other in rumpled sheets I begin smiling too.

"What?"

"I'm glad I didn't have a chance to plan things," he says. "Because this was perfect."

He lunges at me and locks me in his arms as he tosses me back on the bed. I laugh and kick as his fingers tease and tickle and his lips kiss over my neck and chest. "Anywhere with you is perfect," he laughs as I squeal and wriggle and buck. "Every_thing_ with you is perfect."

Then suddenly he pulls back and cocks his head.

"You're happy?" he asks

"Best night of my existence," I grin and pull him back down to me.

"Really?"

"You know it was. And there'll be more best nights, won't there?"

"I hope so." He kisses over my throat.

"Maybe some best mornings?" I run my toes along his leg, up towards his thigh and he moans softly.

"What about school?"

"No school today," I murmur. "I'm declaring today a holiday. But you've got me curious now…what would you have planned?"

Edward stops his kissing and props himself up on his elbow beside me.

"The whole romantic cliché. Somewhere warm, for a start. Maybe a roaring fire. Candles, silk sheets, flowers."

"I don't need that," I whisper.

"I know."

"I just need you."

"I know that too."

"That's why last night was perfect, Edward. Because it just happened. And knowing my luck, I'd probably knock a candle over during the throes of passion and burn the place down, or I'd slide out of the silk sheets and crack my head on the floor."

Edward chuckles as he kisses me again.

"You know I'd never let either of those things happen."

"I know." I kiss him back. "You turned the heat up last night, didn't you?"

"I did. Are you cold? I kept the blanket between us for most of the night."

"I don't feel cold." But of course, as soon as I say it, the first goose bumps appear. Immediately, Edward is off the bed and striding naked into my bathroom. A second later I hear the water running in the shower.

"You need to warm up," he says, sticking his head around the door.

"I don't want to get out of the bed."

"Then I'll be showering alone," he says casually and I'm out of the bed and into the bathroom like a shot from a cannon.

-0-

The water is warm on my skin but Edward feels even warmer. Holding me close he kisses me and his tongue teases, slowly licking the water from my lips and throat and shoulders and breasts. I can feel him hard and heavy against my hip and he groans when I take him in my hand. He buries his face against my neck as my name breaks on his lips. It's a revelation, the way my touch can bring him so undone; I see his muscles tighten and quiver beneath his skin with every stroke. His head rolls back on his shoulders, the water streaming over his face and the growls rumble from deep within him. He braces himself with one hand against the tiles. His other hand clutches me closer as his lips part and his eyes screw shut and just the sight of him has my own need matching his.

"Edward..." I moan and he doesn't hesitate. He lifts me and takes me as he stands. I'm lost in him, and he's lost in me until we cry out and collapse in a breathless tangle of limbs on the shower floor, somehow pulling the plastic curtain down with us.

Wrapped in starfish and seashells, it takes me a moment to catch my breath, and then I start to giggle as Edward grins.

"Oops," he says, and my giggles become belly laughs.

"Is this basking in the after-glow?" he asks, laughing too now.

"I think so."

"I owe you a shower curtain too now. It seems I'm slowly destroying your apartment."

"Then it's a good thing I love you."

"A very good thing," he smiles.

"I can't wait to see what you do to the living room. And there's still the kitchen."

He chuckles softly as he carefully uncurls his body from mine and reaches to turn off the taps. The he stands. Over me. Wet and naked. And this is my first real, stand-back-and-see view of him. He's magnificient.

"What?" he asks and it's clear he has no idea and I can't even imagine the look on my face as he holds out his hand to pull me to my feet. "What is it?" he asks me again when I'm standing. He lowers his face and runs his nose the length of mine. His eyes are so full of joy. "What is it?" he whispers, smiling.

"I...I used to imagine what it would be like...what you would be like, like this..."

"Oh." He seems surprised and though I expect my face to be beetroot red at such as admission, it's not. I reach up and touch Edward's face. Touch my lover's face. We're standing naked in a shabby bathroom, our feet tangled in a plastic shower curtain, and I've never felt more confident or beautiful in my life.

"I used to think I had a good imagination. But I don't."

Edward wraps me in his arms that are still warm from the water.

"I know I have a good imagination," he whispers. "And it still fell way short."

He scoops me into his arms, grabs the towels from the rail and carries me back to the bed.

-0-

Sitting amongst the blankets and pillows, Edward is just in his jeans and I'm wearing his t-shirt. He runs my brush through my damp hair, his fingers expertly loosening any tangles.

"You're much more relaxed than I would have expected," I murmur.

The brush stills for just a moment.

"I feel very relaxed around you," he says. "This feels right. Though there is a small part of my brain that's telling me my behaviour here has been less than gentlemanly."

He finishes brushing and I lie down.

"I think you've been a perfect gentleman."

He doesn't respond, but reaches out to the red ribbon tied around the surviving bed post. His long fingers pull on one end and it unravels and drifts down to the pillow next to me. Edward trails the ribbon over the pillow, across my shoulder and down my body, along the bare skin of my legs and thighs. He lays down beside me and nudges at the t-shirt, exposing my stomach and ribs just a little, and he swishes the ribbon there now, making swirly patterns, raising goose bumps and giggles.

"You like it when I wear it in my hair, don't you?"

"I do."

"Why?"

The ribbon pauses for a moment, a sliver of rich red against my skin, and then continues on its way, circling my belly button.

"In my human time women wore ribbons in their hair. If the ribbon was a gift from a man and she wore it, it held some significance."

"What sort of significance?"

He shrugs. "That she liked him."

My heart squeezes and tightens in my chest and I reach up to touch his cheek.

"Is that what you intended?"

"No," he smiles and trails the silk over my hip. "It was just something to decorate the snow globe. But when I saw it in your hair..." he smiles as he leans down to kiss me.

"You never used to talk very much about your human life before," I murmur when he pulls back. "But then, I never really asked about it either." His face is inches from mine now, sharing my pillow. There's so much about him I don't know. There are things I've read in history books that Edward has seen and lived through. "Will you tell me now?"

"What do you want to know?"

"I don't know. There's so much. Um, did you have a pet?" I roll my eyes; it seems like a stupid question but Edward smiles.

"I had a dog for a while. His name was Duke. He'd fetch anything I threw him."

My face lights up at this little look into Edward's past.

"What happened to him?"

"He died. Old age, I think. Or it might have been the mishap with a horse and cart..." His voice trails off as he thinks. "I know there was an accident; I can't remember if that's what killed him."

"Do you have photos?"

"Not of Duke. I have a couple of my parents. One of me in my baseball uniform."

"Will you show me sometime?"

Edward blinks at me, surprise on his face. Then the surprise melts into a smile.

"I'd like that," he says.

"Did you look like you do now?"

"I'm probably not the best judge of that. I think I look totally different, Carlisle says otherwise."

"So Carlisle thinks you look the same?"

"Very similar, without the glasses."

"Glasses?" My eyes widen and Edward nods. "You wore glasses?"

"For schoolwork and reading, that's all. Did I not tell you that before?"

"No."

I sit up and study him, trying to get my head around the idea of a bespectacled Edward.

"You're trying to imagine it, aren't you?" he smiles.

"Yes," I nod. "Are you wearing glasses in the photo?"

"Not the baseball photo. But there's one other of me at a piano and I'm wearing them."

I cock my head this way and that and he watches me amused.

"What else was different?" My eyes scan the length of him and I'm so eager for information.

"My teeth were crooked."

"Really?"

He flashes me a wide, perfect smile. "Just a little bit," he says. "Slight overlap in the bottom row. Nothing too disfiguring. "

I shake my head. "I can't imagine...you with glasses and crooked teeth. What else? What did your hair look like?"

"Same length, but combed differently. Flatter." He pulls his fingers through the strands. "You know, you probably wouldn't have looked twice at me if we passed in the street."

"Oh, I think I would have. I would have said 'look at that guy with the glasses and the crooked teeth and the flat hair'."

Edward throws his head back and laughs and it's so beautiful to watch. I laugh along with him, just because I'm so happy.

"You know, Edward, I bet the glasses made you look really sexy."

"They made me look like a dork. Maybe I won't show you the photo – you'll be disappointed. Or worse, it'll turn you off me forever."

"Never," I laugh. "That will never happen. Tell me more."

"What else do you want to know?"

"Everything."

We spend the rest of the morning and part of the afternoon curled up on my bed, talking about Edward's hundred years. I want to know where he's been and what he's done. What he's seen. I'm surprised by the number of human memories he still holds, though he says they're foggy and vague but some are clearer than others.

I listen, fascinated, as I hear about the drug store two blocks from his house that had an actual soda fountain, though he can't remember his favourite flavour. He tells me about playing baseball and building soapbox carts with his friends – he remembers the names of some, but not others. He grins when he tells me about going with his parents to watch the _Christmas tree ship _sail into the harbour, bringing loads of trees destined for the living rooms of Chicago's families.

"It was a tradition watching the boat come in," Edward smiles. "There was always one tree tied to the main mast, the others were stacked around the decks, and it was like the start of the Christmas season so I could officially get excited."

I try to imagine Edward as a small boy in flat cap with his pants held up by suspenders. And his glasses.

"I bet you were cute."

I lean down, wrap my arms around him and kiss him with everything I have. He tumbles me onto the pillows but my stomach grumbles – and that means everything stops.

Ten minutes later we're sitting on the sofa while I chew my way through a sandwich.

"I'm not that hungry."

"You need to eat. You didn't have breakfast."

"You're very bossy sometimes."

"You still need to eat."

"There's only one thing I'm hungry for."

Edward's mouth drops open a little, then closes. He smirks.

"Insatiable," he mouths and I laugh.

"Yep. That's me."

He rolls his eyes. "Eat up and I'll see what I can do."

His words ignite deep inside me and the smile that follows them fans the flames.

I'm wolfing down the rest of my sandwich when Jake calls and I'm happy to let it go through to voicemail but Edward excuses himself to the bedroom so I can speak privately - even though we both know he will still hear.

"Thanksgiving," Jake declares. "You coming home for Thanksgiving?"

"I don't know, I hadn't thought about it. It's still a month away." I lick some crumbs from my fingers as I stare at the bedroom door.  
>"Well, I'm booking you in. Beth's already planning, we're going all out. And Charlie's coming - it won't feel right if you're not there too." He pauses. "Beth and I were planning to make an announcement," he says quietly. "It would mean a lot to me if you could be there."<p>

For a second my attention is diverted from the door.

"What announcement?"

"You'll have to come to Thanksgiving dinner and see."

The grin stretches across my face. My guess is my best friend is getting married and I'm so happy for him.

"Oh, Jake...of course I'll be there. I can't wait."

"Thanks Bells." I can hear him smiling. "It'll be good to have you home for a while."

Home.

The word bounces around in my head.

I don't think of Forks as home anymore – and I haven't for a while. Florida didn't feel like home. For a second I wonder where home is, and then I realise...

Right now my home is standing on the other side of that bedroom door. Or maybe sitting. Perhaps lying on my bed counting the cracks in the ceiling. Or staring out the window. My home.

"It'll be good to see you, Jake," I smile. "Say hi to Beth for me."

When I hang up the bedroom door opens and Edward appears with the shower curtain in his hand.

"It's beyond repair," he frowns. "Torn through. I'll buy you a new one."

I run at him and he drops the curtain and catches me, swinging me round, his face full of surprise.

"What's that for?" he asks, grinning.

"Just because it feels so good to be home."

"What?"

"I'm being cheesy, never mind." He laughs and sets me back on my feet. "You heard my call with Jake?"

He smiles sheepishly and nods.

"Do you mind?"

"You should be there for your friend," he says, seriously as he strokes his thumb across my bottom lip. "I know you have a life outside of me, Bella. It would be wrong of me to try and keep you from it." He's still not wearing his shirt and I kiss my way over his chest.

"But this will be our first Thanksgiving."

"And we'll have a thousand more."

A thousand more! My heart somersaults and Edward smiles when he hears it. He lowers his lips to mine. "If you choose to change, then you should take every opportunity to see your family and friends while you can." He kisses me slowly, softly, before pulling back to gently nudge my cheek with his nose. "Maybe I can drive with you, and stay in the Forks house while you stay with your father."

"Sounds like a plan," I smile and kiss my way along his jaw. He sighs.

"Bella?"

"Mm?"  
>"When do you start work this afternoon?"<br>I look at the clock and scowl. Crap.

-0-

Edward visits The Drum twice during my shift. Each time he buys a stack of CD's and DVD's. On the second trip he throws in a harmonica.

"What's this for?" I ask.

"For fun," he shrugs. "I've never had one."

He gives me a dazzling smile as he leaves and even though Alison is bleary-eyed from last night she still manages to cast an appreciative eye in Edward's direction.

"Who's he?" she asks me as the door swings shut behind him, but before I can answer, Amaranthe speaks up.

"Just going by the way they were looking at each other, I'd say he's Bella's boyfriend."

When I smile Alison's mouth drops open.

"Seriously? You kept that quiet. You should have brought him last night."

"I did."

"Oh."

She rubs her temples. "There's a lot I don't remember. Did people have a good time? The clean-up bill is going to cost a fortune. Has anyone heard from Scott?"

I assure her it was a great party and don't mention that I was only there for fifteen minutes. Then I remind her that Scott has called in sick this afternoon.

"Sick my ass," she mutters and slouches off to the backroom as Amaranthe winks at me.

"Last night and today I've seen sides of Alison I didn't know existed."

Amaranthe laughs. "She's a surprise, isn't she? So what's your boyfriend's name?"

"Edward."

Amaranthe nods approvingly. "You know, with skin like his, and those eyes, Edward would make a great Goth."

-0-

Of course, Edward is waiting for me when I finish my shift. He kisses me but seems quiet now, distracted even, as we walk hand-in-hand to his car.

"Is everything okay?" I ask and he smiles and says yes, but that's all he says.

The drive back to my apartment is mostly silent. He smiles again when I ask him about the harmonica and says he'll play it for me later.

He sits on the kitchen counter as I cook myself dinner, picking up utensils and examining them, watching me closely as I throw a Bolognese together, but he still seems far away. I wonder if maybe we have moved too fast and everything is catching up with him and mentally prepare myself to slow things down. He might not want to stay tonight but that's okay – we'll move at his pace.

When I grumble about having no garlic he offers to go get me some.

"What?" he asks when I snort.

"The vampire is going to buy garlic."

He grins and it makes me glad. "Wonders will never cease, will they?"

I direct him to the convenience store two blocks away and am surprised when he's gone for nearly half an hour.

"They didn't have fresh, only pre-powdered in jars," he tells me when he returns. He shrugs out of his jacket and sits back on the counter, leaning down to kiss me on the forehead as he presents me with a whole bulb. "I went to the supermarket instead. It's staggering, the number of people who don't grasp the concept of the eight-items-or-less line at the registers."

His observation makes me laugh and he watches closely as I smash a couple of cloves with the broad side of a knife.

"I know you guys shop for appearance sake, but how long since you've been in a supermarket?"

"A while."

I hand him the jar of tomato paste with a stubborn lid and watch him open it with barely a touch of his fingers. And then silence falls again – I feel the shift in his mood. Sometimes he watches me. Sometimes he looks towards the shelves with my snowglobes. He fidgets with something in his pocket. Keys? Phone? Edward never fidgets, not really. A knot begins to form and tighten in my stomach.

"Is something wrong, Edward?"

"No."

He gives me a quick smile and pulls his hand through his hair.

"Do you need to go?" I force myself to ask the question, and when I do it grabs his full attention and he stares at me, almost alarmed it seems.

"Do you want me to go?"

"No," I say quickly. "But you seem...restless."

"Oh." He doesn't deny it and looks down at his lap.

"So you want to stay?" We both know what I'm really asking.

"I'd like to," he says.

"But something is wrong, isn't it?" The knot tightens and travels to my throat.

"Not wrong, no," he says and glances at the pan sizzling on the stove top. "Can that wait for a moment?"

I turn down the heat and Edward takes my hand and leads me to the sofa. He pulls the rocking chair closer so he can hold my hands as we sit opposite each other.

"I've done something impulsive," he says quietly. "And now I'm not sure if it's right."

His eyes study mine, searching, for what I don't know. "Actually, that's wrong," he frowns. "The act was impulsive, the thought behind it wasn't."

He's talking in riddles and I'm trying to keep up but it's impossible. "What thought? What have you done?" I put my brain on hold and won't even let myself think right now.

Edward takes a deep breath and his thumbs stroke over mine. Then he lets go of my hands and reaches into his pocket. Heart pounding, mouth dry, I have no idea where this is going.

"Don't panic," he murmurs as he draws out the flat red velvet box. My heart grinds to a halt as he opens the lid.

"Oh, Edward." My hand flies to my mouth as I stare.

"Bella, what we shared last night, and this morning, was more right than anything I've ever done. It was right and it was perfect. But I'm still old-fashioned enough that a very small part of me thinks we might have put the cart before the house." He smiles a little. "And I'm old-fashioned enough that I would like you to have some symbol of my feelings. A symbol of my commitment to you."

He's still nervous but his face lights up, brilliant with joy, when I extend my shaking hand towards him and nod. And Edward takes the bracelet from its nest of cream satin.

There was a time I wouldn't have wanted his gift. There was a time when I would have said he'd already given me _him_, and anything more would be too much. I almost shudder now at the thought of how I insisted on no birthday gifts. How I grumbled about every little thing he tried to give me; how I threw his generosity and love back in his face. But I'm older now, and so much wiser, and I can't wait to wear his gift.

Edward's fingers tremble as they fasten the bracelet around my wrist.

"It's beautiful," I whisper.

"It looks beautiful on you," he says and comes to sit beside me on the sofa. His arm curls around me and he pulls me close while I examine his gift. The chain of antique silver is fine and delicate. The heart-shaped crystal that hangs from it sparks light and rainbows around the room.

"It was my mother's," Edward tells me, touching the crystal and making it gently swing. "I went back to the house to get it, just before I came to pick you up from work. Then I didn't know if it was too much. Or too soon. I've been trying to work it out. I still don't know."

"It's perfect," I whisper, watching the crystal bounce its light around the room. "Thank you." Then I smile. "It reminds me of you in the sunlight."

He chuckles softly. "Have you seen me in the sun very often?"

"Just a handful of times."

He kisses the top of my head. "Will you wear it?"

"Yes."

I lean in to kiss him again, but Edward pulls back and his nose wrinkles.

"Smoke," he mutters, standing, and walks quickly to the kitchen. It seems in my nervous state I hadn't turned the heat down as far as I'd thought. Edward turns off the pan and covers it with the lid, cutting off the smoke I can't even smell yet, but it seems the detectors in the ceiling are as sensitive as a vampire nose. The alarm starts wailing a second later.

But the alarm isn't just isolated to my kitchen – they're linked to the whole building and in another second the hallway sirens are wailing and there's the sound of running feet and doors slamming.

"Is this a back-to-base system?" Edward asks wearily.

"Yep."

He cocks his head, listening, and then nods. "And here they come."

There are two fire trucks and the building is evacuated while the firemen do their thing. I try to explain to one of them that it was just an overheated Bolognese on my stove. He tells me they can't leave until they've made sure that's all it is.

Edward keeps his arms around me as we stand across the street with the other residents of my building and I apologise profusely and everyone tells me not to worry – this isn't the first time it's happened.

"It was me last time," grins the guy from 4B. "I charcoaled my steaks."

It's only half an hour later that we're given the all-clear but as we head back across the road Edward's phone beeps and he reads a text from Alice. I watch his face as he frowns.

"What is it?"

"I knew your dinner would be ruined and I was going to offer to take you out," Edward murmurs. "But it seems like Alice has everything covered." He looks up from the phone. "She's begging me to bring you home. And she has an assortment of take-out menus for you to choose from."

I start chuckling but Edward still frowns.

"What's wrong?" I ask and he pulls me into his arms. Burying his nose in my hair he inhales deeply and sighs.

"I'm not ready to share you yet." He kisses my neck lightly. "But I also realise I can't keep you to myself any longer, so, I suppose..." he pulls back and smiles shyly. "Do you want to come and meet my family?"

-0-

He holds my hand as we drive. The crystal heart swings from my wrist and I watch it sway back and forth with the rhythm of the car.

"Is everything okay with your family?" I ask, because he seems tense and nervous.

"All is forgiven," he says quickly and squeezes my hand.

"Do they know about the bracelet?"

He nods. "When I went home to get it this afternoon, they were excited to know we were back together."

"They didn't know? I thought Alice might have..."

"Alice keeps very quiet these days." He leans across and kisses me. "How are you feeling about seeing them?"

"Excited. Nervous. I've missed them."

Edward nods again, but doesn't speak. His hand tightens around mine.

The Cullens are gathered in the living room when we arrive.

There had been so many times when I'd imagined a reunion and always it had been full of hugs and smiles, but now the reality is different. Everyone is tense. Edward's jaw is rigid.

"Bella," Esme smiles and comes forward, taking my hands carefully in hers. "It's so lovely to see you again."

"And you, Esme. I've missed you."

There could almost be tears in her eyes as she pulls me gently into a hug. "We're so sorry, Bella," she whispers as she steps back. "Sorry for what happened, for the way we left." She looks at Edward. "For holding back the truth." She bites her lip. "The last two years haven't been easy for any of us. I hope we can call this a new beginning."

"Of course," I smile and Edward bends to kiss Esme's cheek. The relief spreads across her beautiful features. She reaches up and touches his cheek as she nods and smiles, then steps back as Carlisle smiles hello and takes my hand. "It's so good to see you here," he says and I thank him.

"You're all grown up," Emmett grins from across the room. "Your hair's different."

"It's just some layers," I mumble, surprised that he's noticed.

"Looks good. Welcome back."

"Thanks," I smile.

Rosalie gives me a nod and a small smile which, from her, speaks volumes. Alice bounces on her toes, beaming at me, and then finally comes forward and engulfs me in a hug.

"So glad you're back," she grins.

"I'm glad too."

It's not until she steps aside that I see Jasper standing behind everyone else. The last time I saw him his teeth were snapping inches from my face. I don't mean to stiffen, but I do, and Edward pulls me closer.

Jasper bows his head but doesn't come any nearer.

"Bella, I can't tell you how terribly sorry I am," he says very formally as the rest of the Cullens begin to melt away into other parts of the house. Strange, I don't really see them leave. Only Alice stays, holding tight to her husband's hand. "If there was one thing I could change about my last one hundred and fifty years, it would be that night."

"It's okay. I know it wasn't personal." It seems such a stupid thing to say and I frown. "I mean...I understand. I always knew hanging out with vampires was a risk." I laugh awkwardly and the words that sounded good in my head sound trite and ridiculous when they find breath. I shake my head. "I guess I'm trying to say, I don't like what happened, but I understand why it did. And I accept your apology."

Jasper bows his head again. "I don't want you to be frightened to come here," he says. I notice now how light his eyes are – fresh from the hunt, I would say. Preparing for my arrival, no doubt.

"I'm not," I smile.

Jasper returns the smile and looks now at Edward who nods.

Alice comes to hug me again and asks if I want Thai or Chinese or Mexican.

"Um, Thai?"

"Done!" she grins and pulls out her phone to place an order. "Fish cakes? Dim sum? Spicy lamb with red curry?" She rattles off the things I ordered when we went for a pre-concert meal in Seattle that perfect summer.

"You remembered?"

"Of course," she grins again.

The other Cullens gradually reappear and we sit in the living room together as the tension gradually falls away and we begin catching up.

In many ways, this house is similar to the Forks house; it's tucked away in the woods and is all windows and open-plan spaces. Edward's piano sits at one end of the room. He stays very quiet, his hand never leaves mine but he gradually begins to relax – I feel his body sag slightly as I rest against him. My hand covers his thigh. Every now and then he kisses my temple, my cheek.

Jasper goes down to the road to meet the delivery guy and returns with my dinner and it doesn't feel awkward, being the only one eating. It feels kind of like old times, with Emmett making jokes about my food and me teasing him back. And Rosalie rolling her eyes at her husband and Esme telling Emmett not to be rude.

After dinner Edward takes my hand. "Wanna see my room," he smiles and we head upstairs while Emmett whistles and Rosalie whacks the back of his head.

"Some things don't change," I smile and though Edward smiles back it's strained. He leads me to the familiar black leather couch and I could almost cry as I sink onto it, beside him. In the distance I hear a door slam, and a car engine.

"Your family's gone out?"

"They're being discrete," he smiles and I bring my legs up to curl beneath me.

"We used to sit on this and listen to music," I whisper and trail my fingers over the seam along the edge of the couch, feeling the familiar bumps here and there in the stitching. Edward's trophy cup is on the shelf. There are his rows and rows of cd's and records. There's no glass wall, but there is a huge window with a low sill, looking over the dark woods.

Edward pulls his hand through his hair. "Do you want to listen to something now?"

"Sure."

He puts on something soft and classical and comes back to sit next to me. Feet planted firmly on the floor, he rubs his hands over his denim-clad thighs.

"Tonight was alright?" he asks, looking at his feet, not at me.

"Tonight was good." I still one of his hands with mine. "I've missed your family. And things felt a bit awkward at first but it didn't take long for it to feel pretty much like it used to."

Edward nods but a scowl clouds his beautiful face. I touch his chin and he looks at me. I was going to ask if I could see his photos , but I have the feeling this isn't the right time.

"What's wrong?" I ask gently. "You've been tense since we arrived. Are you still angry with your family?"

"Not really," he shakes his head. "I know their decisions were never meant to hurt me."  
>"Then what?"<p>

He shrugs and looks away towards the window.

"It's stupid," he mutters.

"Now you're sounding like a seventeen year old," I smirk and his lips twitch with an almost-smile. "Will you tell me?"

He sighs and shrugs. "My family has a shared history with you, and I don't."

His words are simply said, but I can hear the hurt and for a moment I'm at a loss for what to say.

"We share that history too," I whisper.

He pulls one leg up to hug to his chest. His other hand curls around mine as he faces me.

"No we don't. Emmett knows that your hair is different. Alice remembers what food you like. I can't recall the night Jasper talks about. For me, tonight felt like I was introducing you to my family. For you, it would have been a reunion. A reconciliation. I was the odd man out."

He looks so lost and I want to tell him he's wrong, but I know he's right.

"I'm sorry," I whisper.

"No," he says quickly. "Don't be sorry. I'm just being...maudlin." He sighs and leans back, resting his head against the wall. "Is it strange that I'm jealous of the Edward in Forks? Because he got the first kiss. He took you to the meadow. You saw him in the sun."

"That was still you."

"I've tried so hard to remember," he whispers. His eyes are deep and sad right now and I crawl into his lap and hold him as hard as I can. His arms curl around me. "You talk about us sitting on this couch listening to music, but I don't know which songs."

"This was one of them."  
>"Was it?"<p>

He strokes his hand over my back.

"Sometimes you'd go all retro, and we'd pick an era. Glam rock was pretty fun."

"Glam?"

"You got out your David Bowie albums."

"Did I?"

"Yes."

I'm so glad when he chuckles softly but a moment later the mood shifts again.

"I hate him, too," he says, and after a pause his words spill quickly from his lips. "Not because of the firsts, but because of what he did to you. Sometimes, I almost hope that I don't remember. The things you've told me that I did...I don't think I want them in my head. I can't bear to think what it was like to leave you. Does that make me a coward?"

"I think it makes you human." I cup his cheek in my hand. He closes his eyes and nestles into my palm.

"But it's so conflicting, because I _do_ want the bad memories. Without them I can't ever fully make up for what I did..."

"You've already made up for it." I stroke my thumb over the smooth rise of his cheekbone. "You're here and you're not going anywhere."

"Nowhere," he whispers, opening his eyes.

"And that's all I need. You. Here. Now. Forever."

He nods slowly. "Forever."

We lay down on his couch, wrapped in each other as I run my lips over his throat and he runs his hands over my thighs. I pull his sweater over his head; he slides my jeans down my legs. When he sinks into me I lock myself around him and give him a new memory for us to share.

-0-

Edward practically lives at my apartment. Over the next weeks we're barely apart, his bracelet never leaves my wrist and I've never seen him so happy, even during that Forks summer when it was just the two of us and the outside world didn't exist and the future wasn't coming.

He buys me a new bed – an iron one with extra reinforcing. And a new shower curtain – bright blue with seahorses.

We study together. We make love. We see a lot of his family and his tension eases. He tells me more jokes and teaches himself the harmonica. He also teaches himself how to cook, but his mouth organ blues are better than his Bolognese.

He spends hours poring over my photo album, but his memories don't come back. He doesn't seem to fight it now - we're focused on the future, and my decision that after graduation we'll go away together and he'll change me. We talk a lot about what it will mean, the difficulties and limitations, but we both know one thing...a human lifetime isn't enough, and being apart doesn't work for us.

As Thanksgiving approaches I think of Jake and his announcement and my trip back to Forks. There was a time when I would have thought my best friend was crazy to get engaged so young. I believed marriage was just something that failed my parents, and almost fifty percent of other couples. That sort of union was never on my radar, but one night as I sit studying on the sofa, I look across at Edward and start to wonder. Frowning as he battles a frittata recipe, I don't think I could love him anymore than I do. He's in every beat of my heart; in my every breath and every thought. And suddenly I understand why Renee tried again with Phil. Why I'm pretty sure Jake is going to say I do to Beth. Why Edward's family have all walked down the aisle.

"I love you," I whisper and he looks up and smiles.

"I love you too."

He blows some hair out of his face and I laugh. I want this man for eternity. I will love him for eternity and I realise with sudden certainty that I want to join myself to him in every way that I can.

He goes back to his recipe. The frown returns. My heart begins to pound as a whole new world opens up to me and welcomes me in.

"Edward?"

"Mm?"

" Um, what do you think of marriage?"

He nearly drops the cheese grater.

"Marriage?"

"Uh huh."

My notes slide to the floor. Edward's eyes lock with mine.

"I believe in marriage," he says quietly. "If it's what both people want."

"Oh."

My heart is racing, pounding against my ribs like it wants to break free and run to the man who is currently up to his wrists in frittata batter and cheese. Slowly, Edward puts down the grater and wipes his hands on the dishtowel. He leaves the kitchen counter and comes towards me, crouching down in front of me and taking my hands.

"I didn't think marriage was something you wanted."

"We never actually talked about it."

"I know. But I've overheard your views on the subject. They weren't very positive."

I shake my head, I don't know what he's referring to.

"When was this?"

"The day after you served me in The Drum that first time. You were laughing with Alex in one of the corridors in the Arts building."

"Oh." Now I remember. It was my anthropology unit. We'd been studying how the relevance of marriage had changed over the centuries. Afterwards in the hall I'd been debating with Alex. I said something about marriage being archaic and unnecessary.

"You heard that?"

"You had me intrigued, and I was listening out for you, yes." He shrugs and I look down at the crystal that swings from my wrist.

"This isn't a crystal, is it?"

"No, it's not."

I lift my eyes and almost drown in his.

"It's a diamond?"

He doesn't answer but touches the glittering heart. I realise now he probably thought this was as close as we'd ever get to marriage.

"Edward, I was wrong."

"About what?"

"What I said in that hallway."

He gasps so softly I almost miss it.

"That's good to know," he says quietly, almost casually, as he stands. "Now I'd better finish your dinner before the batter clumps together."

His proposal comes just four days later, on a rug in front of a fireplace in a cabin near Hood River. A surprise getaway, he called it. Just for fun.

We hiked through woods and followed the river and admired spectacular views. When night comes the fire is warm and welcome as we sit in fluffy bathrobes, me curled in Edward's lap. His arms hold me to him, tucked close under his chin as we watch the flames dance and jump. The memory of the hot tub still tingles on my skin.

Edward tilts my face and kisses me slowly, tenderly. I twist my hands in his hair, pulling him closer.

"Marry me," he whispers against my lips.

My hands still. I pull back to see his face. The flames are mirrored in his eyes as his gaze searches mine.

"Marry me, Bella."

My heart leaps, my stomach goes into free-fall. I don't know whether to laugh or cry or both. I am shot-through with joy and want to shout my answer but all I can manage is a whisper.

"Yes. Yes."

His smile widens, spreading across his face and it's like he's suddenly lit up from the inside as he reaches into the pocket of his robe.

He pulls out a ring, an oval diamond, and slides it smoothly onto my finger. It's a perfect fit and it looks so right, like it belongs there. I quickly wipe away the tears that have pooled in my eyes.

"Thank you," Edward says and kisses my hand. Lifting his eyes I'm caught not just by the depth of love I see, but the promise that shines brighter than the flames. I tell him I love him and he answers me with a kiss.

"You had this planned."

"From the second you told me your views had changed," he murmurs, pressing his forehead to mine. "I thought of getting down on one knee and making a whole speech..."

"I don't need that."

"I know."

He pulls me close again. "Bella," he breathes. "I didn't know this sort of happiness was possible."

With his nose he nudges the robe from my shoulders and the diamonds on my wrist and finger sparkle brilliant and bright in the firelight as we discover a whole new happiness in front of the flames.

-0-

"You'll drive safely," Edward says firmly as I climb into my truck.

"Yes."

"I'll see you there tomorrow."

"Tomorrow."

I shut the door and lean my face through the open window to kiss him.

"Be careful," he whispers.

"I'll call you when I arrive."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

There's another kiss and then Edward stands back and nods. I start the engine and though I don't want to leave without him I force myself to shift the truck into first gear and release the handbrake.

"Tomorrow," I smile.

"Tomorrow," he mouths and lifts his hand in a wave as I pull away from the curb and drive down the street. In the rear vision mirror I see him standing on the footpath, hands locked on top of his head, watching me go. I turn the radio up loud for distraction and remind myself that in forty eight hours we'll be together again.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving and I'm heading back to Forks to spend the holiday with Charlie and Jacob and everyone at La Push. The Cullens will celebrate in their own way tomorrow – hunting as a family, and then Edward will drive to Forks to join me. Tonight I stay with Charlie. The rest of the weekend I'll stay with Edward in his old house on the edge of town and that's when we'll tell Charlie our news.

We thought long and hard about whether to tell my dad. I thought perhaps we should keep it quiet, if I'm going to disappear in a few years anyway. But in the end Edward said there would be enough lies, and if Charlie knew I was happy and cared-for and loved, then maybe he wouldn't worry so much when I stopped coming for Christmases and birthdays and other Thanksgivings. Though Charlie's initial reaction could be a problem – I know he won't be happy about Edward being back in my life. And I don't want to think about what Jacob will say when he finds out.

Edward's family, on the other hand, are overjoyed about our engagement. If we let Alice have her way we would be booked into the Plaza Hotel and I'd be having fittings at Vera Wang. But we're doing things in our own way, in our own time. We'll get through Charlie's reaction first, and go from there. I'd like my dad to walk me down the aisle. I want it to be one of the memories we'll share and I focus on that as I head my truck further away from Edward.

The drive from Portland to Forks is almost five hours. The rain starts falling two hours into my trip. It gets steadily heavier and heavier. The holiday traffic slows the journey even more and I decide to take some back roads.

I'm only half an hour from Forks, maybe forty minutes, when the rain buckets down so heavily that the wipers can't keep up. I pull over on the side of a quiet road that winds on the outskirts of the national park and wait it out. Without the sound of the engine the pelting rain is loud on the truck roof. And it's cold with the heat turned off. I shrug deeper into my coat and grab my beanie from my bag and pull it on.

The rain keeps falling.

I drink the bottle of water I brought with me. I eat the packet of potato chips.

My toes start to go numb.

I sing to myself and stomp my feet. I'm working my way through a packet of mints and a chapter of The Bronze Horseman when the rain finally eases and stops. At last.

I put down my book and start the engine and listen to the tyres spin wildly as my truck sits still.

"Crap."

The side of the road has turned to a mud pond and when I clamber out I discover my tyres have sunk in deep. I try to dig the tyres out with my hands and a stick but it's useless.

My phone sounds from inside my pocket and it's Edward's ring tone. He'll be worried, I know, because I realise I should have called him by now but my fingers are slippery with mud and the phone slides through my fingers, bounces hard off the running board and lands with a plop in the mud.

"Shit!"

The ringing stops. I scramble for it in the mud and with numb fingers I try to scrape its keypad clean. The screen is cracked, the case has separated slightly at the bottom and I push it back together but I think I'm just squeezing mud inside.

I dial Edward's number and hope. It rings once and then stops; the screen fades to black. I try again and again but there is nothing. The phone is dead. And now I know he is going to panic.

Groaning, I climb back into my seat and turn the ignition. If I can get moving and get to Charlie's I can call Edward before he freaks out too much. So I rev the engine hard. And I watch the mud spray over the windows.

I bang my head against the steering wheel.

But my determination hasn't deserted me yet and I climb out again to do a thorough inspection. There has to be a way out.

But the mud is thick and deep and as I make my way around the front of the truck I slip again and cut my hand on the fender when I grab it for support. The blood oozes red across my palm and the smell sends me dizzy. I sink onto the running board and put my head between my knees while I hold my hand away from me. Pulling the cold air into my lungs, I hold my breath and then climb into the cabin of the truck to look for tissues.

The best I can find is the paper napkin from the drive-through where I bought lunch so I press it hard over the cut and hold my breath again. I count to twenty and then peel the napkin away. The flow seems to have stopped but my stomach lurches. There's blood on the seat I notice. And I've dripped on the floor as well. I wind down the window and stick my head out to breathe in deeply again.

I'm not sure what happens now. I know Edward will probably come looking. Maybe Charlie too – I'd told him I'd be there in time for dinner. I try the phone once more...

Nothing.

Swearing, I toss it on the seat beside me and wait.

I search my bag for a band aid to replace the napkin and at least something is going my way when I find one and stick it across my palm.

When I hear a car coming I get out to flag it down...maybe they'll let me use their phone - but they don't stop. It's the same twenty minutes later when another car comes past.

It's been an hour now.

I close my eyes and try to ignore the cold that is seeping into my bones.

Two hours.

I shouldn't have drunk that bottle of water because now I need to pee.

My hand throbs. I'm hungry and so cold that my body is shivering from scalp to toes. And the pressing need of my bladder is strong. I look at the empty water bottle and for a moment it seems to be the answer, until I take note of the narrow size of the opening and the vigorous shaking of my hands. Nope, no way that's going to have a neat and tidy ending. So I find myself clambering out of the truck once more.

I push my way through the dense woods, searching for space big enough to suit my need and by the time I find a few clear square feet I can't see my truck anymore and my fingers are numb as I struggle with the zipper of my jeans.

"BELLA!"

Edward is bellowing my name. His panic echoes through the woods and it cuts through me like broken glass. And I realise now that he's found my truck with blood on the seat and the floor and me nowhere in sight.

"I'm here!" I call and drag my jeans up as quickly as I can. "Edward, I'm here!"

In the distance thunder begins to roll.

"BELLA!"

"I'm here."

He's running. I hear him crashing through the woods; there's a flash of colour and suddenly I'm swept into his arms before I've even really seen him. It's like being hit with a wave and he crushes me to him so hard it's almost painful.

"Oh, dear God, Bella," he cries and his body is trembling.

"I'm okay, I'm okay, I'm okay."

He pulls back just enough so he can see me. One hand runs frantically over my body, my face, checking before coming to rest over my heart. He bows his head, closes his eyes, and presses his forehead to mine.

"You're alright," he breathes.

"Yes. I just needed to pee."

"There was blood…"

"I cut my hand on the fender." I show him my palm with its band aid.

He exhales sharply – pain and relief wash across his face as he kisses my palm.

"Is it deep?"

"Just a scratch. I'm fine."

Edward pulls me close again, his body still trembles. "I thought I'd lost you." His whisper breaks and his arms squeeze me to him over and over. "Running through the woods, listening for your heart, I thought…"

The change is subtle but sudden. Edward's already-hard body becomes rigid as his words trail off. It seems to start with his legs and moves upwards until I feel like I'm being held by a statue. Even his chest stills as his breathing stops.

"Edward?"

He doesn't respond. I pull back but it's hard, his embrace is like a vice but when I struggle he lets me go. His arms swing limply at his sides.

"Edward, what is it?" But I know as soon as I look at him. His body is still but his eyes are wild and panicked as I watch the last two years fall into place and I know..._he's just remembered._

-0-

"You were running through the woods to find me," Edward whispers. "You were calling for me, I could hear your footsteps in the leaves as you ran." He steps back from me but I lunge for him, snaring his hand and holding it hard.

"Don't go," I whisper and my own panic matches his. "Don't run."

He stares at me like it's the first time he's seen me and I think this is worse than that afternoon when he saw my scar.

I hang on to him, I know my touch is his life-line right now and suddenly his legs crumple and he falls to his knees and I'm in the mud with him, holding his hand.

"Don't go," I whisper again. It's like trying to calm a frightened animal and for a moment it's as though he hasn't heard me, but then there's an almost imperceptible nod of his head.

"I won't go," he whispers, eyes wide and locked on mine. "I won't run."

His breath is sharp and shallow. I hold on tighter as he bows his head and groans.

"Oh dear God, what did I do?"

"Edward, it's okay. We're okay. I'm here."

His hand clenches tight around mine, his other hand is a fist that he rubs over his chest. His body shudders and shakes. Suddenly he stands, letting go of me, and he begins to back away.

"I told you I didn't want you." The pain in his voice rips through me.

"It's the past, Edward. We both know why you did it."

"I was no good for you."

"No, no…" I shake my head, trying not to cry. "You are the best thing that…"

"How can you say that?" he roars and clutches at his head. "I was cruel," he hisses. "Why do you want to be with me?"

"Because I love you," I sob now. "And you love me."

It's as if my words cause him actual physical pain and he screws up his face as he backs away. I bite back tears.

"Don't do this." I hold out my hand to him. "Please don't do this. You said you wouldn't run." I'm scared he'll keep backing away and my relief is almost crushing when he grabs hold of my hand again. The pain and sorrow in his face is heartbreaking and I practically climb onto him, wrapping my arms around him and holding on, whispering how much I love him. He doesn't speak. His body continues to shake as he wraps his arms around me.

"Please don't go. Please stay."

He lifts his eyes – they're wide and frightened but he nods.

"I won't go," he whispers. "Please don't leave me."

"Never," I hold him harder. "I'll never leave."

We sink down into the mud and I hold him, his head buried against my chest, and it's dark before his shaking finally stops. When he lifts his face the raw pain in his eyes almost kills me and my tears start again.

"I'm so sorry," he mouths. "I hurt you and I'm so sorry."

I want to tell him to stop. I want to say I understand why he did it. But I don't. As the moon shines down on us I realise that right now, at this moment, there's only one way out of this for Edward.

"Thank you," I smile through my tears. "Thank you for your apology. I forgive you."

His relief is palpable. He sags in my arms like a puppet whose strings have been cut and his head falls against my chest again. His hands grip mine and I can feel his burden begin to lift. This won't be the end of it, I know, but forgiveness is the start.

We sit longer in the dark, just me and the man in my arms. He's so quiet, so still, as he clings to me, but every now and then he shudders as some new memory takes hold and when that happens I whisper that I love him. I make circles with my fingers over the back of his neck, the way he likes. I kiss the top of his head and tell him everything will be okay. It seems like hours, but maybe it's not, before his head jerks up and he looks back towards the road.

"What is it?" I look too, but of course I can't see anything.

"It's your father," Edward murmurs.

"Charlie?" Crap. I'd forgotten. Of course he'd be out looking for me and now isn't the best time for me to re-introduce him to Edward. Shit. "Can you hear the cruiser?"

"No," Edward answers and looks at me with new shock. "I can read his mind."

**A/N: Thank you all for reading, and for the reviews and recommendations for this story. Your support and kind words mean so much and I truly appreciate it ****རྫ****And I know this chapter took a while so I thank you for your patience. **

**If you have a sec to read on, I have some news that I'm very excited to share. **

**Earlier this year I posted a few chapters of an original work on TWCS website. It was part of a writing competition and I was completely gobsmacked, bowled over and blown away when I won! You can't imagine the happy dance that was going on in my house. And that happy dance just got ridiculous when the team at TWCS offered me a contract for the publication of that work. I mean, serious DEFCON1 happy dancing, arms and legs flying, someone could have lost an eye! I will be able to share more information with you in the weeks to come, and in the meantime, The Keepsake will definitely be followed through to completion :) And I'd like to say thank you to all of you. I have such a lovely, generous, supportive group of readers for my fan fiction stories, and it is your support for my writing that helped encourage me to take a chance and enter the competition in the first place...so thank you all very much :) And an extra thank you to my friend and beta, Edward's Eternal who knew about my competition entry and kept me going when I thought I wouldn't get it done in time – she'd tell me to basically sit down, shut up and just write the bloody thing, so huge thanks to you, Melanie! xx**

**The next chapter of The Keepsake will be shorter, and we're getting very close to the end now, but there are still some questions to answer and loose ends to tie up. I'll get the next chapter up as soon as I can. **

**Cheers!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Huge, enormous apologies for the ridiculously long wait, but I do thank you for your patience.**

**-0-**

You can read minds again?"

I stare, numbed by shock, as Edward shuts his eyes and swallows. He frowns and raises one hand to his temple – his fingers rub in hard, slow circles.

"Yes." His voice is hoarse and rough. "But you're still silent." His skin is silver in the moonlight and I can see how the fingers at his temple tremble now. He curls them into a tight, granite fist.

"Edward…"

I reach up and gently touch his hand, feel it tremor beneath mine. His fingers open and he claws them through his hair.

He opens his eyes.

"Charlie's trying not to panic," he mutters and then looks back toward the road. "I can hear the cruiser now. He'll see your truck any minute."

Shit.

Charlie isn't the only one trying not to panic - there's too much to take in right now and not enough time to do it.

"What are we going to do?"

Though my heart races, every beat feels heavy and hard – it almost hurts as I watch Edward slowly bow his head.

"You need to go to your father."

"Not without you."

"Bella, he's frantic."

"Edward, no..." He raises his eyes and there is such shame there. Such pain. "Not without you," I whisper.

He shakes his head and chuckles quietly. It's a grim sound, dark and hollow. "This is not a good time, Bella."

"Edward, I'm not leaving you here in the woods alone."

I hold his face between my hands. He turns his head away from me so I can't read his eyes clearly. Beneath my fingers his face is smooth, no smile, no frown. But his body shudders and I realise what I've just said to him and I'm sure he's remembering when he left me. I press my forehead to his. His breathing is sharp again and I stroke my thumbs over his cheekbones. I'm about to tell him that we face Charlie together or not at all, and then realise how selfish I'm being. This is not the moment to confront my father with our relationship.

"You're right, it's not a good time."

"I won't run," he whispers. "I promise you, I won't."

"I know."

I hear the cruiser now and Edward reaches up to my hand that sits softly on his cheek. He tries to smile but it falls short.

"You'll go to your old house?" The thought of separating from him, especially now, hurts. Edward begins to nod but suddenly his whole body tenses and he screws up his face.

"My car," he mutters. "He'll run the licence plates through the computer – he'll know it's me."

"The car's registered in your name?"

"Yes."

I don't know why this surprises me, but it does. And it means there's no escaping my father right now. Suddenly I feel seventeen again and like I'm about to be caught with Edward in my room.

"Together, then?" I take Edward's hands and grip them hard. "We walk out of here together?"

Edward doesn't answer straight away. We hold each other's hands and he watches my thumbs stroke over his. His middle finger touches the diamonds in my ring. Then he nods and we stand slowly and begin our trek towards the road.

-0-

I'd obviously wandered further away in the woods than I'd thought, because the truck is a good hundred yards up the road. Charlie's cruiser is parked a short distance behind it and my father is clambering out of his seat, running towards it and calling my name, as Edward and I emerge from the trees.

Edward's car is just in front of us, sitting sideways in the dirt, with mud sprayed along the side and the driver's door hanging open. It had obviously come to a very sudden stop.

"Go to him." Edward nods towards Charlie and drops my hand. I grab hold again but he shakes his head. "I won't leave, but I need a moment." And he squeezes my fingers lightly before letting go again. He goes to quietly close the door of his car. Then he leans against the hood and folds his arms across his chest, head bowed. I'm torn between my father and Edward, but as Charlie wrenches open the door of my truck I shout out.

"Dad!"

"Bella!" Charlie stops and turns as I hurry forwards, stumbling a little in the mud. He runs and meets me half-way, pulling me into a rough hug and I wind my arms around him.

"I'm okay, Dad. I'm fine."

"Geez, Bella, I've been out of my mind…" He steps back and looks me up and down and I remember now that I'm covered in mud. "What happened here?"

He looks past me, further down the road to where Edward's car sits, with Edward still leaning against the hood, watching us.

"Geezus, fuck, what are you doing here?"

I've never heard my dad swear. Never. But even through my shock my first thought is of Edward and what he's seeing in Charlie's mind. Edward's mouth falls open as horror washes over his face. For a fleeting second I think his knees buckle.

"Dad, no..."

Charlie looks back at me. "Why is he here? What has he done to you?"

"Nothing. Calm down. Everything really is alright."

"Calm down?" Charlie lets go of me and steps back as he rubs his hands over his face. "Calm down? Bella, you've been missing for hours. No phone contact. I've been driving in circles, calling your old friends in town, calling your mom, and I find you here, like this, with him!" He throws an arm in Edward's direction. "So don't you tell me to calm down!"

"Dad, I'm sorry!" I step closer, shifting my position so I can keep an eye on Edward while I talk to Charlie. "Look, it's a long story but the short of it is…Edward and I have met up again, we've sorted things out and we're together."

"Together?" Charlie's voice, his face, drown in disbelief. And shock. "You want to go back to the coward who abandoned you in the woods?"

"Dad, stop it! I was the one who ran off that night. I got myself lost. It wasn't Edward."

Charlie's face registers new shock and I swallow hard as I relive the memory. "It was daylight and we were in sight of the house when he said goodbye. He never abandoned me in the woods!"

Edward's eyes screw shut. He grimaces as he turns his face away and I know, I just know, that Charlie is remembering how Sam Uley had carried me home, broken and empty, in his arms.

"I'm so sorry." Edward's voice breaks.

"You should be more than sorry," Charlie spits. "You drained the life out of her when you left."

"Dad! That's enough."

Charlie drags both his hands over his head as he turns away from me. He begins to pace back and forth now.

"Chief Swan…" Edward's voice comes softly, but it's firm as he walks towards us. His steps are straight and steady, his shoulders are squared but his eyes blaze with pain as he stops in front of my father. He breathes deeply before he speaks.

"Chief Swan, there is nothing that you can think about me that I haven't already thought myself. The worst thing I ever did in my life was hurt your daughter and even though she has had the good grace to forgive me, I will never forgive myself, even if I live a thousand years. But I can promise you this...I will spend every day of those thousand years making it up to her. If she'll let me."

The tone and timbre of Edward's voice, the raw emotion in his words, sends shivers down my spine. Tears build in my eyes. Charlie is not unaffected, either. He frowns, his throat moves as he gives a single, curt nod of his head. But Edward hasn't finished. "I love Bella," he says. "More than my own life, and the only way I would leave her would be if she sends me away." He looks from Charlie to me.

Charlie makes a few gruff sounds. "Well, you've said your piece," he mumbles. "Come on, Bella."

But of course I don't move. Instead I take my fiance's hand, I feel the trembling that is too slight to see. Somehow he feels colder than usual and I hold on hard, leaning in to him, letting him feel the warmth of me. Charlie's eyes zero in on us – on our hands. On the ring on my finger.

"Aw, geez, no," he says and his own shoulders slump in defeat. "No, Bella you can't…"

"We weren't going to keep it a secret, Dad. I was going to tell you this weekend."

Charlie closes his eyes and rubs his hands over his face. I watch his struggle with this new piece of information and my heart breaks for him, as well as Edward. It breaks for me, too.

"I think I wish you had kept it a secret." Charlie drops his hands and shakes his head. He lets out a long, bone-weary sigh. "And you still haven't told me why you're here like this."

I decide to go for the abridged version. "I pulled over earlier to wait for the rain to ease but I got bogged and then my phone broke and I had to pee. Edward was worried too when I didn't call to say I'd arrived so he came looking and he found me in the woods." Charlie looks down at my muddied clothes. "I fell down," I mutter and brush at my jacket and jeans. "A lot."

"He found you, huh?"

Edward's eyes close and even in the dark I can see his pale face become ashen. The wind whips up and I shiver.

"You should go with your father now," Edward murmurs. "You'll get cold."

"You don't tell her what to do!" Charlie yells suddenly, stabbing a finger hard in Edward's direction. "I don't care if she's got a ring on her finger."

I can feel Edward weakening. His hand goes limp in mine. I can only imagine what he sees in Charlie's mind and after going from two years of silence to this, I wonder how much mind reading he can take right now.

I squeeze Edward's hand, then let go. "Be right back," I mutter under my breath.

I grab Charlie's arm and pull him over towards the cruiser.

"I love you, Dad. I love you very much and I know this here, now, is a shock. A huge shock. I also know what you went through with me when Edward left. I know you walked the floor worrying. I know you came into my room every night to wake me out of the nightmares."

In my father's face I see my words hit their mark and I soften my tone.

"Dad, back in Forks, Edward and I both made mistakes, but we're different now and when we met up again a couple of months ago, we knew we still wanted to be together. I know that makes it sound too simple, but…it kind of is that simple. We want to be together."

"And you can forget what he did, just like that?"

"I can understand why we broke up. I can learn from it, put it behind me and move on."

Charlie shakes his head and I toss a look over my shoulder at Edward. His arms are folded tightly across his chest again, like he's holding himself together. I turn back to Charlie.

"Dad, it hurt Edward too. Far more than you will ever know."

I can see the derision clear in my father's eyes, but then he takes a glance at Edward and his expression changes. It seems he's taking his first proper look at him now – and he shifts uncomfortably where he stands.

"Yeah, well, he doesn't look too happy."

"Right now, he's not." And right now I just want to get him away, somewhere quiet.

Charlie blows out a breath and shakes his head again. "Come on, lets go home and we can talk about this later."

He reaches for my arm but I pull back.

"I'm not coming without Edward."

"Bella…" Edward's voice comes softly but Charlie and I both jump as he appears suddenly at my side.

"It's cold. Go with your father."

"Not without you."

Charlie glares at Edward before he stalks back to my truck. "You comin', Bells?" he calls. He doesn't look at me as he takes my overnight bag from the passenger seat, the keys from the ignition, locks the door, then goes to stand by the cruiser. "We'll get your truck tomorrow."

I open my mouth to say again that I'm not coming, but Edward stops me with an icy finger to my lips.

"Go with him," he says quietly. "There's no furniture at my house. Or food. The heating isn't turned on...I can't keep you warm."

"Edward, please..."

He shakes his head, stopping my words and his eyes are so sad and pained. This is almost killing me, I can't imagine what it's doing to him. Charlie starts the engine. Edward threads his fingers with mine.

"I love you," he says. "And you spent the last hour sitting in those freezing woods, holding me like you'd never let go, and I can't tell you what that meant to me, or how it made me feel." He smiles softly, sadly. He lifts my hands and his eyes close as he kisses each one of my knuckles before he pulls me close against his chest. "But right now, I think I need to be alone for a while."

I feel his lips press against my forehead as I cling to him.

"No..." I shake my head and clutch him harder.

"Bella, please."

"Just let me come with you, I won't..."

My words echo with memory and pain. I sound like I did that afternoon he said goodbye. The realisation hits me harder than the cold night air. It brings another realisation with it – that this isn't about me. This is about Edward. And right now he needs to be alone and I have to be grown up enough to let him.

"Alright," I whisper, squaring my shoulders. I can do this, I can give him the space he needs. I look him straight in the eye. "Just don't do the wallowing thing, okay? Or the self-loathing crap."

There's the flicker of a smile at the corner of his mouth when I look up. "I can't promise that," he says and my heart twists and burns in my chest. Edward's almost-smile fades. "You've told me that you trust me. Is that still the case?"

"You know it is."

"Then you'll let me go and I'll see you in the morning. I'll come and talk to your father when he's calmed down and I'm..." He hesitates, frowns and finally shrugs his shoulders. "When I'm more myself. Whoever that is."

It takes all my strength to step back from him.

"In the morning," I echo and try to smile but I feel dead inside. Leaving him right now physically hurts, but I know he needs this. Still, my heart feels like it's been bruised and I rub at my chest.

"I'll walk you to the car," Edward says.

He grips my hand tightly as we walk. He holds the car door open for me, kisses me quickly, then helps me into my seat.

"Tomorrow," he mouths as he closes my door. He lifts his hand in farewell as Charlie hits the accelerator. The cruiser lurches forward, tearing off down the road, leaving Edward standing in the dirt. When I look behind me, out the rear window, he's already gone.

-0-

Charlie says he wants to understand.

After he's called Renee and Billy and called off the search party without mentioning Edward, he sits, stony faced at the kitchen table while I try to explain. I talk about forgiveness and second chances and how we were two seventeen year old kids struggling with first love. I tell him how different Edward and I are now, how we've learned from the past, but it's hard to know what my dad is thinking. When my words run dry and my throat is parched I slump in my chair and shrug. I think it's the longest I've ever spoken to him.

"That's all I've got, Dad. I love him, he loves me, we're moving forward together. And if after everything that's happen_ I_ can forgive him, then..." I shrug and leave the rest of that thought hanging.

Charlie is silent. The kitchen is silent. My leg jiggles up and down beneath the table. Finally, my father pushes back his chair and stands.

"I want you to be happy, Bella."

"I am happy, Dad. I want you to be happy too."

Charlie rubs his hand over his face. "You can't expect me to like him," he sighs. "Not right away, anyway."

I stand too, on shaky legs, and I hold on to the table.

"You're...you're saying you're okay with this, then?"

"It doesn't matter if I'm okay with it or not, does it?"

I shake my head slowly. "Not really, no."

"You and Edward, you're a package deal."

"You could put it like that, yeah."

He nods. "And you're an adult. I can't send you to your room or ground you, as much as I'd like to."

My lips twitch with a smile. "No, you can't."

"And you might be an adult, Bella, but I'm still your father and if he puts a toe out of line..."

But Charlie doesn't get any further because I swamp him in a hug.

"I love you, Dad."

He hugs me too, making awkward pats on my back. "Yeah, well, I love you too," he says gruffly.

I know it will take time for Charlie to accept Edward, but this is a start. He's trying, for me. And I love him for it.

"So, when's the wedding?" Charlie scowls at my ring.

"We haven't set a date yet."

He gives another nod, goes to the fridge and pulls out a casserole dish. It looks like dinner has been prepared ahead of time.

"Sue thought it'd probably be best if I didn't subject you to my cooking," Charlie explains when he sees me looking. "And I don't expect you to cook while you're here."

"That was very thoughtful of her. I like Sue." I smile. "I'm glad you have someone."

Charlie stills for a moment, then he nods and spoons what looks like a beef stew into two bowls. He microwaves them each in turn and we sit down to eat. The food is delicious.

"Does Sue cook for you a lot?"  
>"Sometimes," Charlie shrugs.<p>

The conversation turns to La Push and Billy and Jake. Charlie agrees with me that Jake and Beth will announce their engagement at Thanksgiving dinner.

"So are you going to want Edward to come eat with us at La Push tomorrow?" Charlie asks.

"No. And I don't think he expects that."

Charlie nods. "I could talk to Sue, see if they could fit one more in. If he's come this far to make sure you're alright, and he's away from family…" He stops and shrugs. "I'll leave it up to you to decide."

My eyes fill. "Thanks, Dad," I whisper and rub my sleeve over my face. I know it would be impossible – the Quileutes wouldn't let Edward set foot over the treaty line and Edward wouldn't want to, but Charlie knows nothing of this, and his offer means everything to me.

He asks me about my classes and tells me about his latest fishing trip. I keep focused on the conversation but my mind keeps wandering to Edward, wondering how he is. When Charlie says goodnight and heads upstairs for bed I curse my broken phone and dial Edward's number from the landline in the kitchen.

He doesn't answer.

Over the next two hours I try four times, but my calls always go to voicemail. My heart burns every time I hear the automated voice… _Please leave a message after the tone…_

"Edward, it's me. I just wanted to see how you are. I love you."

"Me again. Are you okay? You can call me here at Charlie's, he won't mind. He's actually starting to come round."

"Edward, um, call me?"

"I know you need space. I just…I'm starting to worry."

I hang up for the final time and decide that's enough. He knows where I am, he knows how to reach me. He'll come back when he's ready, I believe that. I guess I've been spoiled by having him so much at my beck and call these last months – always answering his phone on the first ring, always wanting us to be together. I know the best thing I can do for him now is leave him alone. He said he'd see me in the morning, but this new silence and space is unsettling.

Sleep eludes me. I lie in my bed in my room where Charlie has cleared space among his fishing gear, and stare out the open window. He's out there, somewhere, struggling with who he is, and his memories. I remember the first time he came to my room. And the last time, the night of my birthday party when he was quiet and distant. Now I realise with a shudder that he'd already decided then that he was going to leave. But he's not the same man he was back then. He's different. Or at least, he was. Will he revert back to the old Edward, now?

I creep downstairs at two o'clock and make one more call.

_Please leave a message after the tone…_

"I love you," I whisper.

I hang up and rest my head against the wall phone. Has he contacted his family? Do they know? Should I call Alice? I lift the phone to dial but stop. I don't think Edward would want that.

I decide to wait and see what tomorrow brings. I trust him. I trudge back upstairs and when I fall back into bed Charlie's snores finally lull me to an exhausted sleep.

It's still dark when I open my eyes. The curtain is blowing at the window but my quilt is tucked tight around me. I know, even before I look, that Edward is in the room. I sit up and he's sitting cross-legged on my old desk, surrounded by fishing reels and tackle boxes.

"I got your messages," he whispers. "I'm sorry if I worried you."

"Are you alright?"

"I will be."

I want to go to him, curl up in his lap and hold him and never let go, but something tells me to stay where I am, let him come to me, when he's ready.

"I didn't expect to see you until morning," I say.  
>"I couldn't stay away. I hope you don't mind."<p>

"I don't mind."

He's formal, like he used to be, way back in the early days, and though my heart doesn't quite sink, it's having trouble coming up for air.

He climbs off the desk and steps very deliberately on a floorboard between my bed and the window. He wriggles his foot and the timber lifts up a little. Edward bends down and pulls it free, reaching into the cavity beneath. I gasp when he lays my missing birthday gifts on the bed.

The CD, the plane tickets, the photographs…

He goes back to the desk and sits like he was before while I look over my lost gifts.

"You hid them."

"That last afternoon, before you came home." I look up and he takes my bookmark from his pocket, rubbing its leather between his fingers. "This was on your night stand. I took it as a keepsake. I think, on some unconscious level, I wanted to have a part of you with me, and leave a part of me with you. Even though you would most likely never know. And then I went and forgot about it anyway. May I still keep this?" He holds up the book mark and I nod, dumbly. His voice is flat, expressionless.

"Of course. Yes. I've already given it to you."

"I know. I just want to be sure." He tucks it away again.

I touch the CD, it's so long since I've heard my lullaby. I look at the photos. The moon is shining through the window and I can make out his empty expression and haunted eyes in the picture.

"You knew then that you were leaving me, didn't you?"

"Yes."

I wonder if I knew too. In the picture I'm clinging to him, there's almost desperation on my face as I look up at him. I know what I felt for him then was love, but in this photo I look like an obsessed teenager. Looking at these photos, the gifts, it feels so long ago. I almost feel like it wasn't me. I blink back tears and stack everything carefully on my nightstand. I can feel Edward's eyes watching me carefully, his legs folded beneath him again.

"Do you want to talk?" I ask.

He nods slowly. "Yes," he says. "There are things I need to tell you, things you don't know that you should."

I mimic his pose, folding my legs beneath me and I get comfortable with the quilt rumpled over my lap.

"I'm listening."

Edward leans his head back against the wall and stares at my ceiling.

"They might not be things you want to hear."

My fingers curl around the quilt, bunching it up in my fists.

"I'm still listening."

Edward sighs and brings his head forward. In the dark his amber eyes glow and the words out of his mouth are the last ones that I expect.

"I was so angry with you."

My fists loosen, my mouth drops open. He was angry with me? When? Why?

"I don't understand..."

"When you went to that ballet studio in Phoenix. I never told you this because it didn't seem right to be angry with you…but I was."

Shit…where the fuck is this coming from? I have no idea how to respond to this but slowly things start to fall into place.

"You've been holding this in for nearly four years, haven't you?"

He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, like he's trying to stop himself crying. I scramble out of the covers, crawl over the bed on my hands and knees.

"Edward…"

I stop when he starts speaking again, and sit back on my heels as his words come so fast I can barely keep up.

"You were lying on that floor, broken and bloodied, _his _venom in your veins, and I have never been more...dear God, _terrified _doesn't even come close. My heart, my world, everything…" He closes his eyes and shakes his head. "Having to suck the poison from you, the taste of your blood, not knowing if I could stop, would he kill you or would I…and then those days afterwards in the hospital when you were unconscious and Carlisle told me you'd be alright but I was still so scared, _so fucking scared._"

This hurts to see. Edward's face is screwed up as though in pain, his hands are balled into fists on his thighs, the bones straining against the skin. "And then I was angry, _so angry, _with myself, with everyone, but also _with you. _Because you'd almost taken yourself away from _me._" He pauses briefly, just long enough to open his eyes and drag his hands through his hair. "I said to you in the hospital that you were in there because of me, and that's true, but what I wouldn't admit to myself was that you were also in the hospital because of _you."_

It hurts for him to tell me this, I can see it, the pain etched in his face, but his eyes flash and blaze with his anger. I don't know whether to be hurt or angry myself, but through my confusion I can see the truth in what he's saying.

"He said he had Renee," I whisper.

"I know, I know he did, but you shouldn't have gone to meet him, you should have told me!" He's almost hissing, now. "You should have trusted me to look after you. You knew what James was capable of, did you really think you could outwit him? Or outrun him? You went there to die, didn't you? _You went to that ballet studio knowing you would die_."

"Yes."

"And you kept quiet about it to protect your mother."

"Yes."

"And to protect me."

"I knew you'd come and I didn't want him to hurt you."

Edward groans and bangs his head against the wall again. Charlie's snores snuffle and stop and then pick up again.

"You would risk yourself to keep me safe. _Me,_" he murmurs. "Can you imagine, for just one moment, what it would have done to me if you'd died?" He leans forward, his hand outstretched, imploring me to understand and the agony in his eyes makes sure I do. "Can you conceive, at all..."

"It would be like my life without you."

He drops his hand and shakes his head. "I'm so sorry…" he says. "This must seem crazy to you, hearing this now, so long after it happened. But I couldn't tell you back then. I was just so grateful to have you safe and still in love with me after everything I'd put you through…the anger seemed _wrong. _I wouldn't allow it."

"No, it's not wrong. You should have allowed it. I would have been angry with me too. I was angry that you went after Victoria, remember? And you didn't put me through anything…" I want to hold him so badly. I'm debating whether to climb into his lap when he starts talking again.

"I brought you into my world, Bella, that's what I put you through." He sighs. "And now I'm proving all over again how selfish I am. I'm making this all about me, telling you how angry I was with you when I should be on my knees begging forgiveness for what I've done…"

"No, stop." I shake my head as I hold up my hand and his lips still. "Enough," I say. "Enough now."

But for Edward it's not enough.

"I was not a good boyfriend to you," he says. "I was controlling and manipulative and arrogant, so arrogant, and I lied to you more times than you know. I treated you like a child, but I thought I was trying to protect you. I never wanted to see you hurt or harmed again and you didn't seem to have any regard for your own safety, so I thought…"

"You thought it was your job to make sure I stayed alive and safe."

He nods slowly. "But I hurt you over and over again and now I don't know how to make up for it."

"You don't have to. You're here, we're together, that's all that matters."

He's wallowing. I sort of expected it but after the past few months, with a different Edward, this is hard to take. I wonder if this is how it will be now. My heart tightens because if he's gone back to who he was, then I don't know how we're going to make this work.

"I set all the rules for our relationship," Edward goes on. "And I did stupid things, like taking you to the dance when you didn't want to go, and I wouldn't listen to what you wanted. I dismissed your opinions…" He scrubs his hands over his face. "I was suffocating you and if you seemed reckless to me it was probably because you were just trying to fight against that."

"Suffocating? Edward, okay, you were controlling but there were a lot of times I didn't exactly listen to you either, did I?"

He blinks, surprised I think, but keeps talking.

"I thought, because of what I am, because of my years and my mind reading, that I knew better than you. But love was as new to me as it was to you and in that we were even, but I didn't see it that way. I handled everything so badly."

"Edward, please…"

"I don't like who I was. I can't believe it was me," he whispers. "I don't recognise myself in those memories. But it was me. It is me. And I can't take back what I've done." His hands sit limp now in his lap as he watches me, head cocked in that way he has. "You held me in those woods tonight," he says, so softly now I can barely hear. "You held me through the shock and through the shame that followed it. I'd have gone mad tonight without your arms around me. Every memory was like an assault, a physical battering but you held onto me, you didn't let go." He blinks slowly. "You held on. And when you defended me to your father, even though I could see in his thoughts what I'd done to you..."

His voice breaks. My throat burns and my eyes sting as I try not to cry.

"Everything seems so different now. I see the world differently, and I see you _very differently._" He pauses. "You've changed too."

"I know."

"But looking back, in a way I can understand why I acted the way I did. You were the fragile little human who attracted danger but you were also a danger to yourself. You seemed reckless and foolhardy, but you were also brave and selfless. That's a dangerous mix. And you seemed so eager to throw your life away on me, before you'd really lived, before you fully understood what being with me really meant." He pulls his hands through his hair and locks them on top of his head. "For a while tonight I didn't know what was right anymore. Had I been right back in Forks, even if I didn't like who I was? Or was I right now? The memories, the feelings, the fear, it was like being crushed from the inside."

And hearing this crushes my heart.

"I wish I'd been with you."  
>"No," he shakes his head. "I needed to be alone. To sort through everything. Having you there would have been more confusing. I'm sorry."<p>

I shake my head. "Don't be."

He unlocks his hands and drops them into his lap. He turns his head sharply towards the window, it's a swift move that reminds me he's not human, but he is Edward.

"My instinct to protect you is still there," he says, turning back. Apparently whatever caught his attention has gone. "And it's still powerful. Even now, remembering how Tyler's truck came for you..." He shudders. "Even now, right now, I want to tell you I won't let you out on the roads again without me. But I also know you've driven from Washington to Florida, and back again, without incident." Suddenly he frowns. "It was without incident, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

He exhales and nods his head.

"And the ice skating. I stood and watched while you stumbled your way around alone on those sharp blades..."

"I liked that you stood back and watched. That you let me try on my own. You wouldn't have done that before."

He gives me the smallest of smiles. "If I start to slip back..."

"I'll let you know."  
>He nods. "You might have to be patient with me sometimes." He looks apologetic, like it's a terrible thing to ask of me.<p>

"That's okay," I smile. "I can manage that."

"Thank you," he says and for a moment we sit in silence.

"Edward, there I things I want you to know too."

He looks at me curiously, frowning slightly. The fingers of his right hand pick at the hem of his jeans.

"You said before that I've changed, and I have. I never looked beyond Forks, before; I can see that now. And I never thought about what it would be like to live with you in the real world. I was so desperate for you to change me but I didn't think about what that would mean. But I see things differently now too."

"I know," he says. "There's a strength in you I didn't see before..."

"It wasn't there before."

He nods and I think he understands what I'm saying.

"Back in high school, I never believed you loved me, you know." His voice is unsteady again and my teeth bite hard into my lip. "Not as much as I loved you, anyway. I thought your feelings were human and limited, just an infatuation that ran a bit deeper than the usual, and I believed that one day you'd leave me."

"Edward, no..." I reach out to him but he doesn't move. I drop my hand and stay where I am on the bed. Right now he needs to get this out and off his chest, I know that.

"There was so much danger being with me, and there was so much I couldn't give you. I was always waiting for you to realise that. In some small way I wonder if, when I left, it was to protect myself as much as you."

"You don't believe that now, do you? About me not loving you enough?"

"No," he whispers. "I've known for some time now how much you love me."

He climbs gracefully off the desk and comes to sit on the bed. He stares deeply into my eyes. Tentatively, he takes my hands in his.

"I can see it. And feel it. It's in your eyes when you look at me, and in your touch, and how you hold me. It's in your forgiveness." He stops and takes a slow, deep breath. "It was there tonight in the woods when I remembered. Bella, I didn't think it was possible to feel any _more_ loved than you've already made me feel over these last months, but tonight you proved me wrong. And I still don't know why you love me the way you do, especially after what I've done, and I've spent a lot of the past eight hours trying to understand, but now I give up. I'm beyond analysing and questioning, I'm just going to let you love me, if you'll let me love you too."

I let go of his hands and open my arms and he comes to me, curling his body around mine and we fall back onto the bed. I draw up the covers as he kicks off his shoes and he nestles against me.

"I'm too cold," he whispers and tries to keep a layer of quilt between us but I push it away.

"I'll warm you up," I say, and kiss his forehead. He touches the tears on my cheek and wipes them away.

"Don't cry," he says. "I've made you cry enough."

"I'm just so glad you're back."

I pull him closer, tucking him under my chin the way he does for me, and he rests his head over my heart that pounds for him. Only him. His arms curl around me, his legs twine with mine and he burrows into the crook of my neck.

We lay quietly for a long time, our breaths matching, chests rising and falling together as one. I stroke the back of his neck, I run my fingers through his hair. He sighs and whispers things I can't hear but their meaning is clear when he presses his lips to my shoulder, my neck and my chest.

"I love you," he says, lifting his face. "I love you."

I tell him I love him too and his face lights up in a smile that is the first real one I've seen tonight. It's beautiful.

"Did you find any good memories tonight?" I ask.

"Lots," he says. "That day in the meadow when the sun was out and we lay on our backs and looked for shapes in the clouds."  
>"I remember that," I smile. "And the fireworks in Port Angeles on the fourth of July."<p>

"We took off our shoes and walked barefoot through the park when they were over."

"And then you piggy backed me back to the car because you were worried about broken bottles in the grass. And you pressed me up against the side of the car and kissed me for a very long time." I crawl to the edge of the bed and sit. "You said they were the best fireworks ever."

"They were." I feel his smooth, cool lips against the skin of my chest. "The bicycle? Do you remember?"

"Yes," I laugh. "And the pillow fight..."

"The chariot race with the trash cans..."

"And photo booth in Seattle..."

"Oh, the photo booth," he groans. "What about the first time I kissed you?"

"Um?" I tease. "Let me think."

He chuckles and nips lightly at my neck.

"Oh yes, I remember now." I grin and he lifts his head and captures my lips with his, kissing me slowly until I'm boneless in his arms.

"And I remember the little beach," he whispers as he pulls away. A breathless smile spreads wide across my face.

"I remember that too."

It was a secluded spot Edward had taken me to during that perfect summer when the outside world didn't intrude on our lives. It was a small beach, an alcove hidden along the coast, tucked away, that Edward had found and on a day of brilliant July sunshine he'd taken me there to swim.

"You wore a yellow bathing suit, with blue swim shorts." He lifts his hand to touch my cheek. "And you buried me in the sand."

My laughter fills the room and Edward chuckles softly. His chest vibrates against my body.  
>"That was fun," I say. "But you just stood up like it was bubble bath, not sand, and threw me over your shoulder and then you walked to the water and threw me in!"<p>

"But I kissed you first."

I sigh and run my hand over his chest. "You looked good in those red board shorts. And when you took your t-shirt off while we swam, you were beautiful." I kiss the top of his head. "You built me the Taj Mahal out of sand."

He nuzzles me with his nose. "You let me rub suntan lotion over your back and legs and arms."

"Mmm..."

His hands wander over me now, over my hip and side.

"I wanted to make love to you that day," he whispers, almost to himself it seems. I realise I'm holding my breath.

"Really?"  
>He nods.<p>

"Was that the only day?"

He shakes his head. "No. Once those feelings started to surface I couldn't stop them, but I could control them." He looks into my eyes. "I never let you know that side of me. The side that wanted you that way." Suddenly my heart is pounding. "I barely let myself acknowledge it. It seemed wrong of me to want you like that. _Everything_ seemed wrong. And impossible."

I'm starting to see how it was for him back then. So much going on inside his head, so much confusion and fear, yet he seemed so cool and in control.

"Not now though?" I ask. "Things don't seem wrong now, do they?"  
>"No," he says. "Now, everything is very, very right."<p>

He kisses me again, long and slow, and I shift until he's lying between my thighs.

"Will you make love to me now?"  
>He pulls back, frowning.<p>

"Your father..."  
>"Is sleeping. And we're adults. An engaged couple. You're not some one night stand I brought home."<p>

He growls and it makes me laugh but I wonder too if he'll say no. He looks around us, at my room, and I know he's struggling with who he was and who he is now. He opens his mouth and I'm prepared for him to say no, we can't, not here, not now. It would be inappropriate.

"Can you be quiet?"

A shocked giggle bursts out of me and I quickly cover my mouth. "Yes," I whisper through my fingers. "Very quiet."

Edward sits up and gives an experimental bounce on the bed. The springs squeak and the wooden frame groans.

"Hmm..." he pulls his hand through his hair, thoughtful. "The bed wouldn't survive us_,_" he says, apologetically, almost shyly. "Well, it wouldn't survive _me._" And I am boneless again. "I have an idea," he says, standing, and he holds out his hand to me. I take it and he pulls me gently from the bed.

"Would you object..." he says, trailing his lips along my shoulder while his hands grip my hips. "To the floor?" He tugs the strap of my tank top off my shoulder with his teeth. "I'd make sure you were very..." His tongue swirls over my throat. "...very..." His fingers dip inside my pyjama bottoms. "... very, comfortable." My head falls back on my shoulders, my knees buckle and he chuckles. "I'll take that as a yes."  
>He holds me close as he drags the quilt from my bed and lays it on the floor. He kisses all over my neck and throat and shoulders and chest and it's awkward as I tug his sweater over his head and he peels me out of my top. I unzip his jeans. He kicks them free and they land in the corner by a box full of fishing lines and reels.<p>

Naked and ready, Edward hooks his fingers into my pyjama bottoms and pulls them slowly down my legs as he sinks to his knees. His eyes stay on mine.

"You are so heartbreakingly beautiful," he whispers and pulls me to him. He buries his face in my stomach. He kisses over my thighs and my hands fist in his hair. "So beautiful." And without even feeling it happen, suddenly he's beneath me and I'm straddling him as he lays on my quilt on the floor.

"You on top," he says. "The quilt is to wrap you in afterwards."

He slides into me and he groans quietly as I gasp. My hands claw at his chest as we begin to move. He holds my hips, he watches me closely and I can feel this new connection between us. This connection that accepts the past and embraces the future. There is nothing between us now, no hidden memories, no forgotten past – back in the place where we began, we start a new beginning. Edward shifts, sitting up so we're nose to nose and he moves deeper inside me. I bite my lip and grip his shoulders, hard. His breathing is sharp and shallow, he grits his teeth as he speaks and his eyes glow with love and lust. His fingers burn into my skin like a brand.

"This is me," he gasps. "This is who I am. _You make me who I am_." He groans, and pulls me closer, dropping his head onto my shoulder as I wrap myself, arms and legs, around him. "I belong to you."

He powers into me, my body rises and falls as I ride the movement of his hips. I feel like I'm on fire, like I'm shot through with lightning. It's too much and it's not enough. Each thrust is deeper, harder, than the last. He takes me higher, until his possession is complete and overwhelming and it's like I've touched the sun. As I shatter and burn he swallows my cries with his lips. Then he shakes and shudders and lets go of me, clawing at the quilt. He throws back his head, screws his eyes shut and bites hard into his lip as he comes. So quietly.

So beautiful.

Panting, wrapped up together in my quilt on the floor, he holds me tenderly, and so close it feels like I'm part of him. Then he begins to chuckle as he looks around my room.

"You've wanted this since you were seventeen, am I right?"

I nod, unashamed and grinning. He grins back and kisses me.

"So have I," he whispers.

After a while he lifts me onto the bed. I'm almost asleep as he curls around me, and the last thing I feel is his kiss on my cheek. The last thing I hear is my lullaby on his lips, but the ending is different, brighter. Like sun after a storm.

"I like the new ending," I yawn.

He kisses me again.

"So do I," he whispers.

**A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews and support for this story. It means so much to me and again, I'm so sorry for the long wait. **

**And a big thank you to Melanie who looked this chapter over for me even though she wasn't well. You're a star, Melanie ****རྫ**

**We're getting very near the end, now – just a couple more chapters, so I hope you'll stick around to see how we finish up ****རྫ**


	15. Chapter 15

**So sorry this chapter has taken so long. **

**To recap very quickly...Bella went home for Thanksgiving. Edward's memory and mind reading came back when he was searching for her in the woods outside Forks. At the end of the last chapter Edward came to see Bella in her old bedroom after taking some time to deal with what's happened. The chapter ended with them making love on the bedroom floor.**

**Now, on to the next morning...**

Edward is curled around me when I wake. Like most mornings he's bunched up the quilt so it's a barrier between us, keeping me from the cold, but even through the layer of cotton and feathers I can feel him. Feel how he wraps around me, how his body fits so perfectly with mine.

Smiling, I yawn, and rub my feet over his. "Edward, how you could ever have doubted this, _us,_ I really don't know."

My eyes open slowly as I feel him move closer, the layer of quilt flattening out and thinning as he pulls my back to his chest. His nose nudges the hair from my neck. He kisses the throbbing pulse beneath my jaw.

"Sometimes, I'm not very bright," he murmurs, and presses more slow kisses over my shoulder. His hand slips beneath the quilt and I giggle when the flat of his icy palm rests low over my belly. "Too cold?"

"No."

I shift and turn, tangling myself in the sheets as I try to face him. He chuckles as I fight the linen that covers my face and his long fingers graze my cheek as he pulls it away. And now I'm staring into amber eyes that are warm and beautiful and happy.

"Hi," I whisper.

"Hi." He kisses me and sighs. "Hello."

His hair is a mess and when I tell him this he moves his head lower on the pillow so I can run my fingers through it, trying to straighten it out.

"You know it's pointless," he mumbles into my chest.

"I know," I sigh. "And it never gets knots in it. It just gets...messy. Is this a vampire thing? You told me before that it was flatter when you were human."

"Only because I wore it slicked back, with hair cream, so it never got the chance to go wild."

"Hair cream?"

"You would call it gel. Or product."

He looks up at me through those lashes, grinning as I laugh. "You wore hair product in 1918?"

"I suppose I did." He's still smiling, but I watch the tightness appear around his eyes. I run my hands through his hair again.

"Something I said?"

"No," he shakes his head. "How are you this morning?"

I pull back a little and study him closely.

"I'm great. What's going on?"

"Nothing."

But it's not 'nothing'. "You've been wallowing, haven't you?"

Last night ended perfectly. This morning has started the same way. But I'd be naive to think that the pain and confusion he felt yesterday with the return of his memory, would evaporate overnight. Even for a vampire, it's a lot to come to terms with.

"A little bit," he shrugs, looking down at the sheet.

"About what?"

"Nothing. It all seems stupid now."

"Oh? What seems stupid?"

He shrugs again.

"Edward..."

Slowly, he lifts his eyes to mine. "You've outgrown who I used to be," he whispers.

This isn't what I was expecting. I open my mouth to deny it, to tell him he's wrong, but when I think about his words, I have to admit he's right.

"You're right," I whisper. "I have outgrown who you used to be. But Edward, you've outgrown him too."

He's very still, I don't even think he's breathing, as he studies my face. Then he nods slowly. "The way we were before...if we'd stayed together I would have made you unhappy. Desperately unhappy." I try to interrupt but he stops me with one cool finger against my lips. "Maybe not at first, but it would come." He drops his hand. "And I would have always been scared."

The scorching pain in his eyes is almost too much to bear. I swallow hard and my hand claws at the sheets. "Scared of what?"

"Your regret."

Suddenly I feel colder than Edward. "This is what you were thinking last night?"

"For a while. It was being back here, in your room. Memories."

"Oh, Edward..."

"I think what bothered me the most..." I can barely hear his voice, and there's a shadow of fear in his features that makes me uneasy as he trails off.

"What?"

He swallows, and threads his fingers through mine, holding on hard. It's an endless moment or two before he speaks.

"Bella, I think I'm almost glad that things happened the way they did, and I can't let myself feel that way."

Suddenly his hand is gone from mine and he's sitting up, pulling both his hands through his hair. I sit up too and wrap my arms around him. I know it'll be like this for a while, him swinging back and forth this way. I'll just have to be ready for it and I hold him tightly now, letting him feel me, all of me; my naked skin against his, my heart's steady beat.

"I hurt you so much," he says, voice breaking, as he brings his arms down to curl around me, too. He leans his head against mine, eyes closed. I pull him even closer.

"Don't let go," he whispers.

"I won't." And I flex my arms around him. I'm just so glad he's seeking comfort, instead of punishing himself with distance.

"I can't be glad about what happened," he goes on. "And I never will be, but if I hadn't left, if I hadn't lost my memory..."

He groans and buries his face in my hair. My heart twists and burns, my stomach knots.

"Edward, no..." I whisper. "Don't do this." I pull back and grab his face, cradling him between my hands and he looks at me, surprised. "You told me not to let you slip back."

"I'm not," he says quickly. "I'm not slipping back." He frowns and shakes his head. "Am I?" He groans again and closes his eyes. "I handled things so badly when I left you, but last night, while I watched you sleep, I began to think..." He takes a deep breath and his chest shudders. I don't think he can get the words out, so I take over.

"Edward, for me, I think in some ways, it was the best thing that could have happened."

His eyes spring open. His face floods with shock. And then, a long moment later, relief.

"Is that really how you see it?" he asks. "Because, I'm starting to believe...but I don't want to see it like that."

"But it's true. It's so true."

He's blinking at me, like I've spoken a foreign language.

"Edward, you and me, we suck at break-ups. But we're good at making up, and seeing where we went wrong. And that's the important part. And, I mean, look at us..." I glance down at the sheets rumpled around our hips, glimpses of bare legs and thighs. "We're naked in my bed, so we must be doing something right. Right? This, what we have _now_, is beautiful."

He stares at me, still shocked, it seems. And while he stares, my heart holds still, waiting. Finally, he looks down, too. A slow, meandering gaze that takes in every inch of us together. The corner of his mouth lifts in what might be the start of a smile.

"I think it's unfair to say that _we _suck at break-ups, Bella." His eyes travel back to mine. "The sucky part was all mine, I'm afraid."

I almost choke on a laugh. "The _sucky_ part?" Edward Cullen said _sucky_ and I giggle.

He nods as the smile struggles to take shape. He leans in, nuzzling his face against my neck and I sigh. My fingers stroke slowly over his back and shoulders and into his hair.

"So that's why you were wallowing? Because you believe good things came out of our break up?" When he nods against me my face almost splits in two, my smile is so wide. "Then I would call that progress, Edward – in a strange sort of way. The old you would never have looked at it like that."

He sighs heavily, his cool breath washes over my skin. "I suppose so." He lifts his head. "The old me would never have been naked in your bed."

"I know." I lean in and kiss him. He curls his hand in my hair, holding me to him as he kisses me back. When I need to breathe, he pulls away.

"Why were you never angry with me?" he asks as he cradles me against his chest.

"You mean about breaking up?"

"Yes. And the way I treated you before that."

I exhale sharply and drop back onto the pillow. Edward stays sitting.

"You want me angry? I was pretty angry the day I saw you outside the library and you took back the bookmark without recognising me. I lost some good crockery over that."

He blinks, surprised. "Oh."

"And Carlisle and Alice were outside the door while it was going on – you'll probably read the gist of it in their thoughts sometime."

His face darkens. "Oh," he says again. And he's staring at me, waiting for...I don't know what. I push up on my elbows.

"Edward, right now, I'm just happy, okay? If you do something to make me angry, I'll let you know."

His face brightens and he smiles.

"Promise?"

I start to chuckle. "That makes you happy? That if I'm angry with you I'll let you know?"

He nods eagerly. The chuckle becomes a laugh and I drop back on the pillows again. This time he joins me.

"You've been angry with me before, I know. Like the night of the prom. But I was always manipulative and you always gave in." He grimaces.

"Yeah, well...I was stupid then." I give him a wink and he smiles. "You won't get off so easy next time."

"Good." He leans in and kisses me softly, even running his tongue over my bottom lip. I keep very still. His eyes darken when he pulls back.

"Edward, do you remember how you always used to kiss me with your mouth closed?"

"Well...I was stupid then."

When I laugh his smile widens, but a second later he's serious again...and the whiplash twinges.

"I couldn't do anything more than that," he says. "I remember now how your scent affected me. Like I could lose control at any moment. It got easier the longer we were together, but it was always there..." He trails off and I don't miss the way his hand claws slowly at the sheet.

"But it's different now, right?"

"Your scent is beautiful," he whispers, running his nose along my throat. "It still entices me, but in a different way." He runs a row of kisses along my collar bone. My eyes flutter closed as I arch my neck, moaning softly.

"Do you think it will change back again?" I ask. "Carlisle said stress can change a person's scent. If I'm not stressed anymore..."  
>"I don't think it will be exactly the same again," Edward says. "Human scents change subtly over the years anyway, as the body changes. Your body, for instance..." He runs one hand lightly over my breasts, across my belly and hips. I know what he means. I've re-gained the weight I lost after he left, but it seems to have redistributed itself. I'm not as straight up and down as I was. I curve where I didn't used to. I don't look like a teenager anymore. "Your body is different now. And so beautiful." He lowers his head and kisses over my breasts. Beneath the sheets his fingers slip between my thighs. "And this morning, your scent is all about last night. You smell of sex...and me."<p>

It's like he's lit a fire inside me. His words, his lips and fingers, have me moaning, head pushed back in the pillow as I clutch at his hair. But I squeal when his icy tongue flicks over my nipple.

"Ssh," he smiles, lifting his face. "You said last night that you could be quiet." I'm panting, hoping he'll keep going, but he turns his head towards Charlie's room. "Your father's stirring." He sighs as I pout, then rolls onto his back and folds his arms behind his head. He bends his knees so the sheet tents over them. There's a good three inches of space between us and he stares, almost glaring, at the ceiling.

"What are you doing?"

"Counting the cracks."

"Why?"

He shuts his eyes and grits his teeth. "Bella..."

"Oh..." I realise and giggle again. "So we don't get to finish?"

He turns his face to look at me, amber eyes blazing.

"Oh, we'll finish," he says. "Just not now."

He looks back at the ceiling while I dissolve in a puddle of need and anticipation. "Three hundred and twenty one, three hundred and twenty two..." Edward whispers. I roll onto my back and try to count some cracks of my own. But I can't see more than two or three.

At three hundred and forty six Edward climbs out of bed and into his clothes.

"Do you have to go?"

"Just for a while," he says. "I should tell my family my news."

"They don't know yet?"

"No." He shakes his head and then a sly grin curves his lips. "I'm considering keeping quiet about the mind reading. That could be fun for a while."

"Edward!" I toss a pillow at him. He grabs it neatly and tosses it back.

"I'll be back later," he chuckles. "And I should speak with your father when I do."

"I think he's starting to come round," I say eagerly. "About us, I mean."

"We'll see." His eyes flicker towards Charlie's room. "Even in his dreams he hates me."

"No…" I shake my head, but I wonder what it is he sees in my dad's mind. "He just needs time."

"Maybe."

Edward kisses me again and then suddenly I'm alone and the curtain at my window is swinging. Just like old times.

Tucking the quilt around me, I climb out of the bed and look out, but the street is empty in the cloudy morning light.

"Edward?" I whisper. "I love you."

From somewhere I hear his voice, almost like it's carried on the breeze...

"Forever."

###

Charlie is in the kitchen when I come downstairs. He nurses a cup of coffee. I eat toast standing up while I start pulling together a potato bake – my contribution for Thanksgiving lunch at La Push.

Neither of us has ever been good at small talk, and with yesterday's events hanging over us, things are especially quiet. And polite. Charlie asks how I slept, and then he takes a knife and offers to help.

"Heard from Edward?" he asks as we stand, side by side, peeling potatoes together.

"He's going to come over this morning." I try to gauge my father's reaction as he nods but doesn't look up from his task. I think back over our conversation from the night before, how he'd realised that Edward and I were a package deal. How he'd asked me when the wedding would be.

"You'll be nice to him when he gets here, won't you?"

"I won't get my gun out, if that's what you mean."

"Dad!"

"What?"

I shake my head and decide not to bother. "He wants to talk to you," I say, stiffly. "Will you listen?"

"I'll listen."

Charlie pours another cup of coffee when there's a familiar triple-knock on the door. "Guess that's him," he sighs.

"Be nice," I hiss.

In the front hall Edward gives me a quick kiss on the cheek.

"I've brought your truck," he says. "It's out front. Is now a good time to see your father?"

I reach up and tap my finger to his temple. "You'd have a better idea than me, but I think it is, yes."

Edward gives me a wry smile and glances towards the living room. "There'll never be a good time," he murmurs and straightens to his full height.

Charlie comes into the hall and Edward offers his hand.

"Chief Swan..." It's a long few seconds before my father reaches out and accepts the gesture. "May I speak with you?" Edward asks.

"Bella said you might want to." Charlie nods and heads back to the living room. I start to follow but Edward stops me.

"I'd like to do this alone," he says.

"Why? This involves me, too."

"Please…" Edward's eyes implore me. He takes hold of my hand. "My decision to leave affected him, too. There are things he might want to say to me that he wouldn't want you to hear."

I'm about to protest. What could Charlie possibly have to say…but then I realise. And I blush because it seems Edward knows my father better than I do. Charlie will want to be able to say what he wants, without having to worry about my feelings. This needs to be an honest conversation between them, I understand that. Edward is still watching me, waiting for my okay. So I stand on my toes and kiss his cheek and whisper "good luck", and go check on the potato bake.

It's all quiet from the living room. I nibble some cheese. I rearrange the pantry and empty the dishwasher. When the phone rings I think it might be Jake, but it's Renee.

"Oh, Bella honey, are you okay? I've been so worried."

"Yeah, I'm fine. Dad called you last night, didn't he?"  
>"He did, but I was still worried. You were bogged? And lost in the woods? Oh, Bella, there are wild animals in those woods, when I think what could have hap..."<p>

"But nothing did happen." I cut her off quickly. "Happy Thanksgiving, by the way. How are you and Phil celebrating?"

Distraction usually works with my mother and my lost hours in the woods are pushed aside as she tells me about the new recipe for pumpkin pie that she's found. As we talk I keep an ear cocked for sounds from the living room, but Renee has my full attention when she asks me if I'm dating anyone.

"You're young, Bella. You shouldn't be alone, you should be out there having fun."

"I am having fun, Mom, actually..." I take a deep breath, screw my eyes shut, and tell her about my fiancé. It's the same version of the truth I gave Charlie and I also explain how it was Edward who found me in the woods. When I'm finished I listen to the silence at the end of the phone. I twist the curly cord around my finger until the tip turns purple. "Mom? Are you there?" My voice is small, like I'm five years old again.

Charlie's reaction was easy to anticipate. With Renee, I have no idea. I uncurl the cord from my finger, just as my mother finally speaks.

"You're not serious, Bella. Are you?"

Her words aren't encouraging and my heart drops.

"Yeah, I am."

"He left you in the woods, and then he found you in the woods?"  
>I frown, not sure what she's getting at. "Um, yeah...I guess..."<p>

"And you're getting married? No. This is just..."

"Mom, please, if you could..."

"This is just incredible!"

"Er, what?"

"The symmetry, Bella. The symmetry. It's incredible. Unbelievable!"

Now it's my turn for shocked silence. I have no idea what she's talking about, but I'm about to find out.

Renee's voice rises an octave like it always does when she's excited. "The universe has brought things back into balance, Bella. Maybe it's not quite symmetry...more of a reversal. Or coming full circle, yes!"

"Mom..."

"I'm reading a book..." Of course she is. "It's about the secret messages in relationships. Things we don't always see because we're too close."

"Yeah, Mom, I got bogged and I needed to pee." Renee's not listening. She's busy telling me about symbiotic relationships. Finally, she stops to draw breath.

"I guess what I'm trying to say, Bella, is, the universe wants this for you. It's righted a wrong. Corrected a glitch. You've taken a detour and the universe has brought you back on track, using familiar circumstances, like being lost in the woods, to help you recognise the return to balance." Her voice is triumphant, but it's hard to know if she's happy about my engagement, or about her new theories being proved right.

"So, you're okay with this? With me marrying Edward?"

"Honey, if you're happy, then I'm happy. You're a smart girl, and you've always thought through your decisions carefully. I believe if you and Edward are back together it's because you're meant to be."

"Oh, okay. Well...good."

"And you've obviously worked out what went wrong in the first place."

Somehow, through all the talk of the balance of the universe, my mom has managed to hit the nail on the head with that last sentence.

"Um, yeah, we have. We've worked through a lot of stuff."

"And will the wedding be in Forks? Would you consider Florida? We could have something on the beach."

It's almost dizzying, the way she jumps from one thing to the next.

"Mm, not the beach. Honestly Mom, we haven't got that far yet. I still have college..."

"Of course. Of course. Ooh! I have to go!" she says suddenly. "I can the smell turkey burning! Love you, Bella! And I'm happy for you darling. We'll have to talk weddings soon."

The line goes quiet but I keep the phone pressed to my ear as I try to process the conversation. I'm still haven't moved when Edward walks into the kitchen. He smiles.

"You okay?" he asks.

I nod as he takes the phone and hangs it on the cradle.

"I told my mom."

"I know. I heard. We have a symbiotic relationship. The universe has righted all wrongs." His arms engulf me and he kisses my neck. "She may have a point."

"Maybe," I giggle. "I'm just glad she's happy for us." I smile as Edward pulls back and brushes my hair back from my face. "Everything okay with Charlie? You seem to be in one piece."

He nods. "We've reached an understanding. Charlie basically wants you to be happy. He just wishes the thing that makes you happy wasn't me."

"Oh..."

"It's okay," he smiles down at me. "He admires me for coming to speak with him. And you were right this morning when you said he's coming round. He is. Just very, very slowly."

"I'm glad. Did you tell _your _family?"

"I did..."

But Edward lets go of me suddenly when Charlie comes in. Now, instead of hugging me close, he holds my hand.

"Who was on the phone?" Charlie asks.

"Mom."

He nods. "You tell her your news?"  
>"Yeah."<p>

"And?"

"Um, she's happy for us."

Charlie scowls. "Yeah, well, we'd better get going, Bella," he says gruffly and trudges towards the front door.

"Is he okay?" I ask Edward.

"He will be. Like you told me before, he just needs time." He kisses my cheek. "I'll see you tonight."

"Wait! What did your family say?"

"Later," he says. "I'll be at the old house. Call me when you're home and I'll come over."

I shake my head. "Why don't I come to you?" I could do without the tension of having Charlie and Edward in the same place.

"No heating, remember," he says. "And no furniture."

"We can light the fireplace and sit on the floor."

He seems uncertain, pulling his hands through his hair. "That wouldn't be very comfortable for you."

"Please?"

I wonder if it's the memory of the last time we were together in that house that has him so uneasy. Memories of broken glass and blood and fear. Or if it is just the lack of armchairs and footstools.

Edward drops his hand from his hair and nods. "Call me before you come," he says. "I'll meet you at the driveway. The place is so overgrown you'll never find the turn off."

"Bella!" Charlie calls from the front yard and Edward kisses me quickly once more.

"Are you going to tell Jacob about us?" he asks, backing away, smiling.

"I don't know. Maybe not today. He's going to be pretty shocked, I need to choose the time and place. And anyway, I don't want to compete with his big news. You know, him and Beth..."

Edward nods. "Of course. That's a good point," he says. "But I should tell you, he'll know anyway."

He walks backwards down the hall, pulling me along by the hand, still smiling.

"Oh? How will he know?"  
>Edward's nostrils flare slightly, then he wrinkles his nose in the sexiest way. "I'm all over you," he mouths. My knees almost give out just as Charlie comes to see what's taking me so long.<p>

###

"I hate being late," Charlie grumbles as he guides the cruiser towards La Push.

"Sorry. I just felt like I needed to freshen up."

After Edward had gone I'd rushed upstairs to quickly shower and change while Charlie had waited in the driveway with the engine running.

"I guess I got distracted with the cooking and Edward coming over..." I shrug. "Sorry."

Charlie nods and changes down a gear.

"Looks like it might rain," he says.

"Mm."

He glides the cruiser carefully around a sharp bend.

"Edward got your truck out of the mud."

"Yeah."

"Couldn't have been easy, on his own."

"No."

The cruiser takes another bend. The predicted rain begins to fall, spotting the windshield.

"You know, that boy has a lot more backbone than I thought." Charlie says suddenly, surprising me. "He doesn't shy away from what he did, or the hurt he caused."

"Er, no."

I hold on tightly to the dish of potato bake on my lap, not sure where this change of conversation will take me.

"He's very perceptive." Charlie goes on, frowning, and I get the feeling Edward has used his newly-recovered mind reading to full advantage. "And he loves you, I can see that." And that fact seems to annoy my father. He's almost scowling.

"I love him, too."

There's silence and Charlie's frown deepens. "Every father wants the best for their daughter. And I know it's old fashioned…" he waves away any protests before they come. "And I know you can look after yourself, but I want to know that you'll be looked after, too. And, er, loved." He clears his throat. This is hard for him, I know. It's hard for me too, this sort of conversation with my dad. I try to make it easier on both of us by looking out the window as he continues. "You're both still very young. But the way Edward looks when he talks about you…that's what I would want to see in a son-in-law." In the glass I see his hands tighten on the steering wheel. "He's learned from his mistake, I think."

"He has. We both have." Turning in my seat, I look at him now. "Um, so does this mean you're really okay with everything?"

"He's not the same boy he was back then, I can see that."

He hasn't actually answered my question, but I think this is as good as I'm going to get for now. So I take it, and I grin.

"Thanks Dad."

"You going to tell people your news at lunch today?"

"No," I shake my head. "I think I'll leave the announcements to Jake."

Charlie gives me an almost-smile, and turns on the radio.

###

Jacob and Beth make their announcement between turkey and dessert.

"Hey! Why does no-one look surprised?" Jake beams around the table as he hugs Beth and we all shout congratulations. Billy couldn't look prouder and Charlie grins and claps him on the back.

"Only surprise is how long you took to announce it," Sam says and everybody laughs.

Beth's ring is an elegant row of sapphires set in a silver band. It looks beautiful on her hand as she flashes it for all to see, but though the stones sparkle, they're no match for the shine in her eyes as she smiles at Jacob. I've turned my own ring around so the diamond sits against my palm. Now isn't the time for my werewolf friend to know I'm marrying a vampire. I'll tell him in my own time. But now my happiness for Jake is suddenly tinged with sadness – I realise our friendship might not survive once he knows my news.

I get up from my seat and join the group of people waiting to hug the happy couple. Emily is laughing and sharing the story of how Sam proposed to her. Kim giggles as she reminds Paul how she used to draw hearts with his name in them, all over her schoolbooks. Leah is smiling a rare smile and I wonder if it has something to do with the all the texting she's been doing under the table. It makes me think of Jared's comment during lunch, about someone called Ethan, that had made Leah uncharacteristically shy.

In all the excitement I notice Charlie pull Sue into his arms and kiss her quickly, sweetly. It's the first display of real affection I've seen between them and it stops me in my tracks. Actually, it's the first time I've seen my father like that at all. Ever. I don't remember the years when he and Renee were together. My heart swells for him, and I know, for certain now, that when I can't be around anymore, Charlie will be alright.

"So, does this turn into an engagement party now?" I ask as Jake pulls me into his arms.

"Sort of," he chuckles. "I've missed having you around, Bells. I'm so glad you could be here today."

"I've missed you too. And I'm so happy for you, Jake. So happy."

He pulls out of the hug and gives me the smile that kept me going through those dark months without Edward.

"We'll come visit," he promises and passes me over to his fiancee.

I like Beth. She's one of the kindest, gentlest people I've ever met, and a perfect match for Jacob. After hugging her hard I take her hand and admire the ring up close.

"Wow, did he choose this himself?"

"He did," she says proudly.

"He chose well."

"Well, he knows I love sapphires." She caresses the band with her thumb. "But the wedding ring will be plain...um, a bit like that."

She looks curiously at the platinum that circles my wedding finger. "Something you want to tell us?" She smiles and I feel my cheeks heat as Edward's diamond presses against my palm.

"No," I laugh, dropping my hand to my side and quickly asking her when the wedding will be. March, she tells me. Spring.

The celebration goes way past dessert. There's music and laughter. Stories are shared. I borrow Charlie's phone and take photos. Of everyone. Tonight will be something I want to keep with me for the next thousand years. And the thousand after that. I even give the phone to Sue, and ask her to take some pictures of me and Jacob together.

It's well after dark when we say goodnight and drive away.

"That was a good Thanksgiving," Charlie says.

"It was. And Jacob and Beth are so good together. I'm happy for them."

"They're young," Charlie says. "But I think they'll be alright." He flexes his fingers against the steering wheel and he frowns. "The way he looked at her...it's like how Edward looks at you." The colour rises in my cheeks. Charlie sighs. "I'm glad you were here today, Bells."  
>"Me too, Dad."<p>

On the console between us his phone beeps and he picks it up to check the text.

"Isn't there a law against texting and driving?" I ask.

"Yeah, well..." he gives me a lazy look. "Who you gonna tell?"

I laugh and he smiles...until he reads the message.

"What on earth...?" His face clouds and he pulls over to the side of the road.

"What is it? What?"

He stares down at the phone in his hand.

"Your mother..."

"Is she okay?"

"Oh, she's okay," he growls. "She wants to know what I think of the Fairmont Olympic Hotel in Seattle for your wedding...she's got an estimate." His face pales as he looks at me. "So soon? And you want the Fairmont?"

"No," I say quickly. "No, Dad, this is just Mom being Mom. We never talked about a wedding. Edward and I haven't set any sort of date yet, you know that."

Charlie looks back at the phone. "Because if that's what you wanted, well..." He rubs his hand over his chin. "I could always..."

"No! Dad, you know me, I'm not into big and fancy." Certainly not into five star luxury hotels. I shrug and give him a smile. "Maybe a barbeque in the backyard? You can wear your fishing hat? I could wear my sneakers under my dress?"

Charlie keeps staring blankly at the screen. Finally he shakes his head and a small, Charlie-style smile steals over his lips. "Yep," he says. "That sounds good to me."

###

On my way to Edward's place, I realise I'm nervous. Not a lot, just a little. He's been alone all day and I don't know where his mind will be when I arrive. I don't know what dark thoughts might have come calling.

It's a relief when I see him waving and smiling to me from the roadside near his driveway. He climbs into the truck and I expect him to want to take over and drive the long, overgrown track up to the house, but he doesn't. He just tells me to look out for low branches and rests his hand lightly on the back of my neck, making soft strokes over my skin, as I shift into first gear. I concentrate on the windy path. It seems narrower than it used to. Edward doesn't speak – no doubt he doesn't want to distract me. And it's not lost on me that at one time he would have insisted on taking over the wheel rather than let me drive over a rocky, indistinct track in the dark. But I'm sure his decision to sit beside me while I do it is a compromise between the old and new Edward.

The house begins to appear through the trees, flashes of white in my headlights. I pull to a stop and stare at the house. This isn't how I remembered the Cullen place.

"It looks a bit worse for wear, doesn't it?" Edward says quietly.

The paint is starting to peel. There are leaves and branches littering the porch and with the headlights still on I can see that cobwebs decorate the railings. Only a faint glow coming from inside stops it looking too ghostly.

Edward reaches over and turns off the lights.

"It looks better inside. I've tidied up," he says. "Dusted and swept, anyway. I've lit a fire in the fireplace. It'll look better with the lights on. Or, we could go back to Charlie's if you'd rather not..."

"No. No, I want to come in." I wonder what Esme would think if she could see the place now.

He holds my hand tightly as we walk through the front door. When he goes to flick the light switch I stop him.

"No, leave it. I like it like this," I say.

The place does look better inside even though the rooms are empty. The fire gives a warm, friendly glow and there's a silky rug and some satin cushions scattered in front of it.

Edward helps me out of my coat and he rests it over the only remaining piece of furniture in the place; his piano. It stands, covered in a dustsheet, on its platform in the corner of the room.

Edward pulls his hand through his hair. He points to the cosy set up in front of the fireplace. "I found them in a cupboard in Alice and Jasper's room," he says. "And I got some things to eat from the gas station. Juice and chocolate bars." He shrugs. "It was the only place open."

He seems nervous. Anxious even. I take his hand and squeeze.

"It's lovely. Thank you."

I lower myself onto the cushions and pull him down with me. But when he sits he lets go of my grasp and holds his hands out to warm in front of the flames.

"It was a shock for you, seeing the house this way," he says.

"Yeah, a bit."

"There were racoons nesting under the porch when I arrived." He smiles. "They left pretty quickly." He looks around. "It's always like this at first, when we come back to a place. But it doesn't take much to bring things back to order." He takes my hand again. His is warm now and I hold it to my cheek. He strokes his thumb over my skin. "Paint," he says. "A few nails." He leans in and kisses me gently. "How was Thanksgiving?"

He listens closely as I fill him in on my day. Charlie and Sue. Jacob's happiness. Renee's text to Charlie and his reaction. Edward laughs.

"Sounds like your father is well and truly resigned to the idea of us being together," he says.

Reaching up, I push my fingers through his hair, brushing it out of his eyes.

"Tell me about your day. I didn't like leaving you alone."

"I was fine," he says. "I knew you were nearby." He narrows his eyes slightly. "You were worried I'd wallow again?"

I shrug. "Did you?"

He hesitates, then nods. "For a little while, on and off, but I knew I couldn't let myself slip back. I won't do that to you." He swallows hard. "Or to me," he whispers. He gives me a sad, lopsided smile. "But sometimes I feel like I don't fit my own skin anymore. It's going to take me a while, I think."

"I know."

I tousle his hair and he bends his head so I can scratch the back of his neck. He's always liked that. He sinks lower with every stroke I make, until his head is almost in my lap.

"That's nice," he whispers and for a while we just sit, and listen to the crackle of the fire. Feel its warmth. Soon Edward shifts, lying down and stretching out and resting his head properly in my lap. He closes his eyes while I play with his hair. There's a soft smile on his lips. He could almost be sleeping. Dreaming. He sighs and nestles deeper into me. After a while he speaks.

"You wanted to know what my family said when I told them." He opens his eyes. "Shocked silence is probably the best way of putting it," he says. "Followed by lots of questions. Carlisle wanted details and I gave him what I thought was necessary." He gives a mock sigh of exasperation. "He'll want to shine lights in my eyes and feel my head when I get back."

I laugh and he smiles a small smile. "They're happy for me," he goes on. "But it will make things interesting when I'm at home. Their thoughts have been their own for a long time. It'll be another adjustment to make." The smile fades. In the firelight, his beautiful face shadows now in a soft frown. "They've been through a lot because of me."

"They love you."

"I know they do. That's why they put up with me."

"Put up with you?" I roll my eyes. "Yeah, I'm sure it's a terrible burden for them, having to live with you."

He chuckles. "But you haven't lived with me properly yet. You mightn't be mocking me once you do."

"I'm sure I'll cope."

The flames flicker in the fireplace. Edward reaches up and touches the loose strands of hair that hang over my shoulder.

"You know, despite Alice's attempts, we haven't talked much about the wedding," he says. "What you said before, about a barbeque in the backyard, is that what you'd like?"

I twist some of his hair gently around my finger and watch it flop over his forehead and into his eyes when I let go. He frowns, purses his lips and blows it out of the way.

"It doesn't have to be that exactly," I say, smiling. "It's more that I want something small. Intimate."

"I like the sound of that," he says quietly. "You don't like big celebrations. You didn't want your eighteenth birthday party."

His words are unexpected. But honest.

"No. I didn't."

He nods. "I know you've told me what happened, but now I remember how it _felt_. I remember what _I thought_."

"What did you think?"

"That you didn't know what you wanted. And once you got here you'd realise I was right." He lifts his hand to touch my cheek. "I really believed that. I'm sorry."

Before he gets the chance to wallow again I lean down and kiss him on the tip of his perfect nose. My hair swings around our faces, cocooning us. The fire gives a golden glow to our little world. Nose to nose, we stare into each other's eyes and the past fades away.

"Play the piano for me, Edward?" His momentary surprise dissolves into a smile and I pull back again, tucking my hair behind my ears. "Please?"

"Okay." He stands, pulling me to my feet.

We sit side by side on the piano stool while Edward plays my lullaby, with the new, lighter, happier ending he'd hummed to me that night in my apartment. I'm determined not to cry, but a single tear slips down my cheek. I wipe it away quickly, hoping Edward won't see, but I'm sure he does. Even so, he doesn't mention it. I lean my head on his shoulder and he gives my hand a squeeze.

He follows the lullaby with some Mozart. And then Debussy. Some Red Hot Chilli Peppers. In the empty room the notes are louder and I feel them vibrate in my chest. I watch Edward's fingers on the keys. There's something so beautiful in the way he plays. Sexy even. I've never told him that. There are quite a few things I've never told him. Some of them involve this piano.

"Why didn't you take this with you when you moved?" I ask once he's hit the final note of Heavy Glow.

"I didn't think I'd play it again."

"Oh?"

He shrugs and I get the message.

"So, you're saying, this the first time you've played since you left Forks?"

He nods and runs the backs of his fingers along the keys, one end to the other, in a jarring cacophony as he smiles. "And it feels good."

I laugh as he begins to bang out a jazz piece I recognise.

"That's from the festival in Olympia! That new band we saw…"

He nods, grinning.

"I _loved_ this one."

"I know. You were almost dancing in the crowd. I thought I might have to clear a space for the safety of others."

I poke out my tongue and he laughs.

I can practically _see _the piano vibrating. I stand and, closing my eyes, touch the polished wood of the lid, feeling it pulse under my palm. And I'm so glad he's thinking of the fun we had that day, and not what came after the festival. The bad times don't mean the good times weren't good. I'm glad he's getting that.

When the jazz finishes Edward starts something new. Something soft and light, it starts as a whisper.

"In honour of the night I took you ice skating," he says. "The night I knew for certain that I loved you."

My heart skips. I fold my arms on the piano lid and lean forward, smiling.

"What is it?"

"Ravel's Balero."

"I've heard of that, but I can't place…"

"It's famous from the 1984 Winter…

"Torvill and Dean!" I shout and Edward almost looks startled.

"Er, yes," he says.

"Alison told me all about them." I remember the impromptu skating lesson that day in The Drum. "They won the gold medal in the figure skating."

"They did."

"But we weren't as good them. Well, I wasn't. You probably could be."

Bolero swirls around us. A whisper no more, the music grows, swelling and building. I close my eyes and remember the night we skated. How Edward held me for the first time. His touch. His eyes. Under my hands the piano throbs. The vibrations run up my arms. The rhythm consumes me. It climbs and reaches. It roars, growing in intensity until I feel I could explode.

The climax comes. Edward plays the final notes. The music ends. But my body is still humming. In the deafening silence my eyes stay closed. Until I feel Edward's arms around my waist. He kisses the back of my neck and my eyelids flutter.

My stomach goes into free fall.

He murmurs in my ear.

"You liked that?" he whispers and I nod. "I'm glad." He nuzzles the curve of my neck. "Bella?"

"Mm..."

You said before that you wanted a small, intimate wedding..."  
>"Mm..."<p>

He turns me to face him. I open my eyes as he bends his head and trails slow kisses over my jaw.

"Do you want to set a date?" he asks, lips moving softly against my skin. My eyes close again as I tilt my head back, arching my throat for him as I whisper…

"Yes."

He kisses me now. Hard. His mouth moving eagerly with mine. Electricity scorches through me and when my knees buckle he lifts me and sits me on the piano. His hands are on my hips as his nose nudges my shirt open and he kisses over the skin he exposes. I tangle my hands in his hair.

"When?" he breathes between kisses. "Next year. The year after. Just tell me when. I'll be there."

When? Through the haze of heat and desire that is engulfing me right now, the answer comes suddenly.

"Christmas eve," I whisper.  
>He lifts his face from between my breasts and smiles up at me, puzzled, I think.<p>

"Do you mean this Christmas eve?"

I don't know. Do I? It's kind of soon. But why wait? We don't need to organise much if we're keeping it small. And it's not like I'm going to change my mind. We both want this.

"Too soon?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "Not soon enough," he says, beaming. "Lets celebrate."

He kisses me again. A long, slow kiss that leaves me breathless and almost dizzy. Then he places a hand on my chest and gently pushes me backwards so I'm lying on the piano. Slowly, he unbuttons my shirt and unhooks my bra. I lock my legs around his waist. I want him so badly.

"Edward?"

"Mm?"

"There's something I never told you."

"Mm?"

"I used to wonder sometimes...what it would be like to make love on your piano."

His hands stop. I lift my head and almost laugh at the look of shock on his face.

"You're serious?" he asks.

I nod, biting my lip. "I am. Did you ever...?"

"No," he shakes his head, pulling his hand through his hair.

"Did I say something wrong?"  
>"No," he says, but the corner of his mouth lifts. "You surprised me, that's all." He frowns at the piano. "Honestly, I never thought I'd be able to be with you that way. Any fantasies I had were very...tame."<p>

A fireball explodes in my chest.

"You had fantasies?" Why have we never had this conversation before?  
>"Very tame," he repeats.<p>

"Tell me."

He gives a wry laugh. "Just...being able to kiss you was a fantasy at first. Then..." he shrugs and lifts his hand. He touches a finger to the hollow of my throat and slowly trails it down between my breasts. "Touching you...like this." His hand dips inside my shirt and I moan. "I wanted to...do this." He leans down and kisses my breasts, his tongue swirling smoothly over one nipple, then the other.

"You want to make love on my piano?"

"Uh huh."  
>"I don't think it's a good idea."<br>"Oh?"

I push up on my elbows and look at him.

"I don't think it could handle it. But…" He grabs my hips and pulls me towards him. "We could improvise."

He slides me off the lid and spins me around so I'm standing with my back to his chest. Then he trails his hands up the backs of my thighs.

"We just need to think laterally," he says. When his right hand finds the zipper of my jeans I think I'm going to combust. I can feel him behind me, pressed against me, hard and wanting.

"You have to tell me, Bella..." He slides the denim down my legs and kicks the jeans aside. "If you're not comfortable." His fingers tease me before he relieves me of my undies, too. "If you want me to stop..." He slides my shirt from my shoulders, kissing my skin as he goes. A second later I feel the bare skin of his hard chest pressed against me. "...just say so."

I hear his zipper. From the corner of my eye I see his jeans join the growing pile of clothes by the piano stool.

He sighs. "So beautiful," he murmurs, and I moan as his hands make a slow journey from my knees, along my thighs, over my hips and up to my breasts. He moves my hair over my shoulder and kisses the back of my neck. His hands tease my nipples. I push back against him and he groans.

"You like the piano?" he asks, breathless.

I can only moan my answer, and his name, as I feel him slowly slide inside.

He kisses my ear, my jaw, as he fills me. His hands grip the edge of the piano lid.

"Just tell me one thing, Bella?" His voice is strained and my heart's in overdrive as he presses his body against the length of mine. _Into_ mine. "How would you like me to play this? Allegro or adagio?"

"Uh?"

He bends us lower over the piano and whispers in my ear...

"Fast or slow?"

###

I have never felt as boneless as I do now. Wrapped in the satiny blanket, I am curled deep in the arms of a naked Edward as we lie in front of the fire.

I never want to move from here. Ever.

I feel Edward's lips in my hair. "Are you alright?" he asks.

"Mm…never better." I kiss his chest, over the place his heart would beat if it could, and revel in the sound of his sigh.

"I wasn't sure...was it..."  
>"Fast was good," I whisper, looking up at him. "<em>Very<em> good."

A slow, satisfied smile stretches across his face. "I'll bring the piano with us, when we move into a place of our own."

"Definitely," I grin, and snuggle against him once more. "It wouldn't fit in my apartment now, would it?"

He chuckles. "The only piano that would fit in your apartment would be an upright. And I don't think that would work." I glance at Edward, see the mischief in his eyes, and suddenly we're both laughing hard.

When we're quiet again, Edward threads his fingers through mine. "So...," he says lazily. "The twenty fourth of December?"

"Uh huh."

"Any particular reason you chose that date?"

He kisses my knuckles.

"I think it was inspired by today."  
>"Oh?"<p>

I nod and stroke my fingers over Edward's arm, following the faint blue line of vein that travels along the inside of his forearm.

"Thanksgiving will always be extra special now for Jake and Beth." I trace the vein as it crosses Edward's wrist and disappears into his hand.

"We can all be together for Christmas. My family _and _yours. I've not had a Christmas with both my parents together since I was two. So, Christmas and a wedding, it would be a nice memory. For them too, when they don't see me anymore. A good memory for after I'm...changed."

Edward nods and kisses the inside of my wrist. "It will," he says, and I'm glad his words came with no hesitation. No flicker of the old Edward who might ask me if I was still sure.

"What?" he asks.

"Nothing. It's just...I thought you might slip back, you know, when I mention 'changing'."

"No," he says. "No slippage. Not about that." He kisses me again. "Not about that."

The fire starts to fade as I start to yawn, and though I'd like to stay here the night Edward's right when he says it's just not going to be comfortable.

"I can keep the fire going all night, that's no problem," he says. "But the floor isn't going to get softer. Neither am I."

So he drives us back to Charlie's. After we say goodnight at the door he climbs through my window and is waiting for me when I walk through my bedroom door.

I change into my baggy old t-shirt. Edward pulls back the covers and tucks me in and sings me to sleep with my lullaby.

I wake with a headache. Not a surprise really, given the drama of the last couple of days. It's bound to catch up with me somehow.

I sit up and see Edward cross-legged on the end of my bed, frowning down at his phone.

"Problem?" I ask.

"Not really," he says, looking up. "Just something unexpected."

"Oh? What's unexpected."

He comes to lie beside me. "Message from Carlisle. You remember he was trying to track down Joham?"

"The scientist vampire? I remember. Carlisle thought he might know something about your memory. And hybrids."

Edward nods. "Well, it seems Joham has found Carlisle. He's planning to visit Portland." He frowns again. "Word has obviously got round."

"Is this a bad thing?" I reach over and touch the pucker between Edward's eyebrows.

"Not necessarily. Although we don't usually encourage vampires to come visit us. The difference in lifestyle and diet makes things...awkward."

I could see how that would be the case.

"And the visit seems redundant now, since I've regained my memory. But Carlisle would still like me to meet him." He sighs and drops his phone onto the night stand.

"Can I meet him too?"

Edward's turns his head so sharply I almost flinch.

"No," he says. "Absolutely not."

I'm completely taken aback by the vehemence of his words. And it must show because immediately, Edward is contrite.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I shouldn't have spoken like that, but I can't let you meet him."

"Why? You can't keep me from..."

"Bella, please, be guided by me on this."

"Let you make the decision for me, you mean?"

He shakes his head, exasperated. "The risks are too great."

"But this involves me, too, if you're going to discuss hybrid babies..."

"I will not knowingly put you in the path of another vampire!" His eyes flash and his jaw sets hard. "And before you say anything about me slipping back to my old ways, I promise you it's not the case."

"Really?" I drench the word with as much scepticism as I can.

"Really." He sits up and pulls his hand through his hair as I stare at him, trying to process what's happening here. "Think about it," he says, more calmly now. "Think hard. Think what I've told you about Joham. Apart from the fact that he leads a traditional lifestyle, wouldn't he be very interested in someone like you? A human involved with a vampire? Think of the women who died while he was experimenting with his hybrid theories."

I sit up too. "Oh, you're not serious Edward, surely you don't think he'd..."

"I don't know the man," he snaps. "I don't know what he'd think. Or do. But he's a vampire, like me. So I know what he's _capable_ of doing."

"He's _not_ like you. Don't be ridiculous."

Edward leans closer, eyes boring into mine. "I _choose_ to live differently, but I know what I'm capable of, Bella. That's the point." His eyes, his message, send an unexpected chill down my spine. "That's why I won't let you near him." He sits back again. "And if you still think this is me slipping back, I'd have to ask if you're slipping back too."

His final words surprise and sting. My mouth hangs open and I'm ready to argue, to tell him he can't treat me like a child and decide who I see and where I go...and suddenly this all feels familiar. Too familiar.

Our conversation replays in my pounding head. I close my eyes, rub my temples and try to think this through. Part of me says this is the twenty first century and my fiancé can't dictate to me. It says we're a team, equals, and we should deal with this together. Because that's what twenty first century couples do.

But we're not your average couple. This is not your average situation. And when I look at this situation as it _really_ is, suddenly I see things very differently.

Suddenly I see the sense of Edward's words. And his words are honest.

_I know what I'm capable of Bella._

I know so well _who _Edward is, it's easy to forget sometimes _what_ he is. I open my eyes. I touch his face. His eyes are amber, but I know they've been red. I know what he's capable of.

I realise too that there was a time when he wouldn't have told me what was in Carlisle's message. He'd have made something up and had Alice get me out of the way for a day.

"You're right. I don't need to put myself at risk."

His jaw relaxes. His body sags and he drops back down on the pillow.

"Thank God," he murmurs and shuts his eyes. I flop down beside him and he turns his face to look at me. "You'll be guided by me on this?"

"Well, you're the expert in the field. So, yeah."

He cracks a small smile. "Thank you," he whispers.

"No problem." He pulls me into his arms and his cool chest feels good against my head. "Thank you for being honest with me."

"Honest?"

"You know, not spinning me a story and organising Alice to take me to a spa for the day or...something."

He chuckles softly, rolls onto his back and drapes one arm over his eyes.

"I thought about it," he says. "For a moment I thought about it." He pulls his arm away and looks at me. "But it was a concert in Seattle, not a day at a spa."

My surprise that he had actually considered subterfuge is outweighed by his admission. And now I laugh too. "Music versus massage. Mm, which one..."

He shakes his head, grinning. "The music," he says. "Always the music. Never the massage."

"Oh? Why?"

"Because, Bella..." He smooths the flat of his palm over my bare breasts and belly. "No-one massages you but me." He kisses my belly as I giggle. He runs his tongue around my navel. "Are we going home today?" he asks.

It's hard to answer as he makes a path of kisses towards my hip. "Um, this afternoon? Is that okay?

"Very okay." He lifts his head, eyes shining. "Can we tell Charlie our Christmas Eve news before we go?"

###

Of course, Charlie is shocked. But not as shocked as I'd expected and I wonder if Jake and Beth's engagement has mellowed him a little. I think he's especially pleased about our plan for something small and simple. I ask him not spread the word just yet.

"What about your mother?" he asks.

I roll my eyes. "That's different. Of course I'll tell Mom."

"Good," he says, and then insists I call Renee now, right away, before she books the New York Plaza.

"Or Buckingham Palace," he adds, under his breath.

By the time Renee has squealed her delight down the phone, my head is throbbing again and it's hard to listen to her ideas for a winter wonderland theme. I make a mental note to keep her and Alice away from each other.

Edward excuses himself when Sue arrives with Thanksgiving leftovers. He tells us he's forgotten something at his house and goes through the backdoor as Sue pulls up out front. She's brought Thanksgiving leftovers for Charlie and we laugh as we try to fit it all in his freezer.

"Thank you for looking after him," I say when Charlie's out of the room.

Sue hugs me. "He looks after me too," she says. "He's a good man." And suddenly I want to tell her about Edward and me. I think she'd understand. But I keep quiet because I want to tell Jake first and I need time to prepare for that.

When Sue leaves Edward returns. I pop some more aspirin while he loads my bag into the car. I hug Charlie and we farewell Forks just as the rain starts.

###

Edward's Honda keeps a steady pace behind my truck as we drive. The rain gets heavier and the cabin feels damp inside.

I'm sneezing again by the time we reach Aberdeen. My headache is back when we hit Centralia. By St Helens my throat feels like it's on fire and I realise this isn't drama catching up with me. I _have_ caught a cold.

I've gone through all the tissues in my bag by the time we arrive at Vancouver. And my nose is as red as Rudolph's.

When I pull up outside my apartment building, Edward opens my door. "Bella? What's wrong?" I sneeze loudly as he helps me onto the footpath.

"I've caught a cold." I sniff and sneeze again and rub at my pounding temples. "I just need some sleep."

Edward's gaze runs over me. "You're sure?"

"Yep. Just some sleep."

He grabs my overnight bag and we go upstairs. He holds me close and says he'll stay with me.

"No," I say. "You go and see your family. I'm not going to be much company."

I finally persuade him to leave and collapse into bed as soon as he's gone. I tug the quilt around me and a second later I'm unconscious.

###

A phone is ringing somewhere.

My phone.

My eyelids feel like lead as they creep open. It's dark and I'm cold. So cold. But my pillow feels wet. My clothes are soaked.

The phone stops ringing just as I grab it. I fumble for the bedside lamp and peer at the screen where it tells me I have one missed call and a voicemail message. From Edward.

"I'm on my way now. I want to tell you...I have news. I'll see you soon."

"News?" My voice is a croak and pain shoots down my throat when I speak. There's a jackhammer in my head. "What news?" I collapse back onto the pillow.

I should get up. Shower. Change my clothes. But everything hurts. The ache in my head has spread through my body. An icy ache that feels bone deep. I shut my eyes and a moment later I hear Edward's voice. I try to smile as the mattress dips down beside me.

"Bella?" he whispers. "Are you alright?"

"S'a cold," I rasp.

He pulls me into his arms. "Bella...fuck..."

He never swears. I open my eyes and see the panic blazing in his.

"This isn't a cold," he says. "This is influenza."

###

**A/N: Thank you for your patience when this chapter took so long. I'm so sorry about the wait. Real life has been over-the-top busy for the past few months, so I really appreciate you sticking with me :)**

**And thank you Melanie for your brilliant beta'ing and for listening patiently when I was so undecided about which direction to go with a plot point. **

**Have you met Fenceward? He's starring in Melanie's (Edward's Eternal) latest fic, The Other Side of the Fence. It not, go take a look, you'll love him :)**

**And I keep forgetting to mention...I'm on twitter these days... windchymes11...if you're interested. **

**The next chapter won't take so long, I promise.**


	16. Chapter 16

**I've taken some liberties with SM's vampire characteristics at the end of this chapter.**

**###**

The fear in Edward's eyes is painful to see. Face like ash, he carefully lays me be back on the pillows, like I'm the most fragile thing in the world. Then he stands, pulls both hands through his hair, and locks his fingers on top of his head as he stares down at me. When I cough he winces and groans and that fear in his eyes sharpens to raw panic.

"It's come on so fast," he whispers. "Like my father."

Oh shit. I know what he's thinking. I can see exactly where his mind has gone. He shuts his eyes and bites hard into his lip. "You think it's a cold. Then comes the cough. And the fever." His words are low and murmured. "And then..." He shudders and I know he's not here anymore. He's back in Chicago, a hundred years ago.

"No," I croak and reach out to him. "No. Not like that." I want to say more but even these few words have been an effort, especially when they're followed with another cough that feels like it's ripping me apart from the inside. I have to admit he's right, this isn't the cold I thought it was. It is influenza. The flu. But not his flu. "S'not the same," I mumble.

But he doesn't respond. His eyes stay closed. It's like he's shut down, locked inside his panic.

"Ed..."

"This is my fault." He groans again and drops his head into his hands. "My fault. Mine."

I try to interrupt him, but my voice is weak and his fear is strong. Almost as strong as the guilt that blazes across his face now. His eyes are agony as he looks at me.

"Edward, no..."

"My fault." His voice cracks and his breathing hitches. He swallows and rubs his hands over his face and up over his head. "Dear God, what have I done?"

"Edward, stop..." He's motionless, except for the slow clawing of his hands in that tangle of hair. "Please..." I'm cut off by coughs that stab and burn. "Please. Edward I need you."

Those are the words he needed to hear. His eyes snap open. Mine are half closed but I can see clearly enough. I can see the struggle inside him – his past battling with his present. It's there in the twist of his lips and the hard line of his jaw. Suddenly he moves, sinking back onto the bed.

"I'm sorry," he says, but his voice is unsteady and rough. "I'm so sorry. I'm here now. I'm here." He rests his palm on my forehead. "Hundred and four." His Adam's apple drags slowly up and down as he swallows hard. And suddenly he's gone. But before I can even properly register that fact, he's back again, bringing me water. The liquid shakes inside the glass, sliding up and down the sides, as his hand trembles. The sight of it makes me want to cry.

Edward helps me sit up a little. The water feels good against my lips and over my tongue but it hurts to swallow. When I've had a small mouthful I lay back down and Edward takes my hand. His is still shaking. "You have a fever," he says quietly. "A high one. Your heart is fast and you're dehydrated. You need rest and fluids and drugs for the symptoms."

"Is this Dr Cullen talking?" I give him a weak smile. He gives me a weaker one in return. But he squeezes my hand softly.

"You're scared," I whisper.

"Terrified."

"Don't be."

"I can't lose you." His voice breaks.

"I'm not going anywhere."

Edward leans down and kisses my forehead. "Not without me," he says.

###

I slip in and out of uneasy sleep. I don't know if it's dreams or reality, but I hear voices. My mom. Carlisle. And Edward.

Always Edward.

He talks, though I can't always make out the words. Something about snow. And Christmas. Weddings.

Sometimes he sings.

And sometimes he prays.

I go from cold to hot and back again. I feel trapped in my bed. Trapped in my body. I kick off the blankets and someone pulls them up. Nothing feels right, everything hurts. My muscles ache and my skin stings. When I cough it tears right through me. My chest is heavy. I want to claw my way out of my body and leave it behind.

I want to sleep forever.

There's something cold and damp and rough on my forehead. I try to push it away but it comes back. It makes its way down my face, onto my neck and I shiver.

"Stop," I mutter and try to turn away. "I'm cold." I fumble hopelessly for the covers but they're out of reach.

"Bella..." Edward's agonised voice comes drifting through the haze. "Bella, please..." Then it feels as though he's lifting me in his arms. I open my eyes and meet the fear in his.

"I'm sorry," he says but I'm not sure what he's sorry for. Everything is too fuzzy, I'm only catching every other word. "Too hot...fever...drugs...not fast enough...I need to..."

"Leave me alone," I mumble. "Please. Just sleep." I close my eyes again and reach for the bed. I don't understand why he won't let me sleep. Everything seems so cloudy and disconnected. Not quite real. Like a dream. Edward holds me tighter as I try to escape him.

"Stop it, Bella." His voice is firmer now, almost abrupt, but I ignore it.

"No." I shove at his chest but my arms drop back against me, useless. "Just let me sleep." Why won't he let me sleep? Again I try to squirm out of his arms, but it's like being in a cage. When I start coughing, he groans.

"Bella, I'm sorry, I have to do this." Dark and low, his voice cuts through the haze and really gets my attention this time. "You can sleep when your temperature comes down." When I look at him, Edward has a scarily determined expression on his face. And now he carries me purposefully to the bathroom.

"Edward...what..."  
>"Brace yourself."<p>

The shower stream is a shock. Cold and sharp, it makes me splutter and gasp and cough more than ever. Our clothes cling to our bodies like a second skin. Edward pushes my wet hair away from my face. He's kept the lights off and the room is dark. I can't see him, but his body is trembling against mine_._

The water feels heavy and hard, like it's pushing me down. Like I'm drowning. I twist my head back and forth, trying to get away, but I am surrounded by a solid wall of Edward.

"Let me go! Please." I sob into his neck. "Please. S'cold. I don't like this."

"I know." His voice is anguished and raw and comes through gritted teeth. "Neither do I, but I'm not mucking around anymore. It's this or the hospital."

He sinks onto the floor, cradling me to him. I'm so cold it's almost painful. The water is like knives of ice slicing into my skin. "Please, let me go. It hurts."  
>"No."<p>

"Please."

"I can't." And now Edward's sobbing too.

###

It feels like hours that we're under there, but Edward tells me it's only fifty-seven seconds.

"Just enough to put a real dent in the temperature," he says, and his voice is calmer now as he turns the water off and wraps me in a towel. Beads of water run down his face and drip from his hair as he sits me on a chair in the corner of the bathroom. Dry clothes hang from the hook behind the door. He'd planned this, obviously.

He rests his damp hand against my cheek. "I'd say you're hovering a little above a hundred and one now."

Edward helps me get dried and dressed, then he disappears after making sure I'm comfortable in the chair. In the few seconds that he's gone, I realise that the shower does seem to have helped. I still feel awful, and more exhausted than ever, but I'm not cold anymore. Or hot. My skin feels like it's my own again and my mind isn't quite so groggy. Although my body still aches and my head pounds. And still all I want to do is sleep.

"I'm sorry about the shower," Edward whispers as he lifts me into his arms. He's changed clothes but his hair is still damp. A drop of water falls onto my arm as he slides me into the bed.

"You changed the sheets?"

He nods, and somewhere through the slowly lifting haze, a random thought arrives.

"Have you ever made a bed before?"

"No, never. How do you feel?"

I shrug.

"Are you still angry with me about the shower?"

"Yes."

Surprisingly, Edward smiles and kisses my forehead. He almost seems relieved. "Good," he says and holds out a glass of water and a tablet. "Anger means you can fight this."

But the fight goes out of me quickly because as soon as I've had my medicine and my head has hit the pillow, I give myself over to sleep. The deep, sweet, easy sleep I've been craving. At last.

###

It's daylight when I wake. My eyelids are like lead and it's an effort to open them. When I swallow my throat still burns, but even so, I feel a bit better. I turn my head on the pillow and see Edward sitting cross-legged on the floor, close by my bed. He comes slowly into focus as I blink. Hair more tousled than usual, face drawn. He stares into my eyes and this morning he truly looks like someone who hasn't slept for a hundred years. Soft sunlight is falling through a chink in the curtains, dancing rainbows on his wrist and the backs of his hands.

"Your hands are sparkling."

He glances down and wriggles his fingers, sending prisms of light bouncing around the room. Then he takes my hand between both of his. He closes his eyes and kisses my knuckles. "Knock, knock," he whispers and I'm so surprised that I don't even think about asking what he means, but automatically say, "Who's there?"

He opens his eyes.

"Interrupting cow."

The smile starts stretching slowly across my face, and I watch a similar smile dawn, like sunrise, over Edward's.

"Interrup…"

"Moo," he whispers softly. When I giggle he gives a relieved groan, climbs carefully onto the bed and pulls me into his arms.

"Thank God," he murmurs into my hair. "I thought I'd never see you smile again." He kisses my temple. "How are you feeling?"

"Wrung out," I say and follow it up with a cough.

He touches my cheek. "An even hundred," he murmurs.

"That's good."

"It's better." He hands me the glass of water and a tablet and helps me to sit. "But you still have a little way to go."

Swallowing the tablet is like swallowing broken glass. I wince and grimace and then flop back on the pillows. Edward replaces the glass on the nightstand before curling up beside me. He strokes his fingers softly over my arm.

"How long have I been out of it?" I sniff and he hands me the box of tissues.

"A while," he says. "It's Sunday morning."

Sunday. So I left Charlie's just two days ago. It feels so much longer. "Was my Mom here?" I ask, though I know she wouldn't have been. "I thought I heard her."

"No." Edward shakes his head. "You were dreaming. You called for her once, something about fish sticks." A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. "I'd ask you what that was about but you probably don't remember."

"No." I touch his cheek, feeling his skin beneath my fingers as I trace his jaw. When I run my fingers through his hair his body almost seems to sigh, and he sags deeper into the mattress. He stares up at me through his lashes as I scratch my nails over his scalp. "Your mother's words about things coming full circle, they kept coming back to me," he says.

For a moment I don't understand, but then realisation dawns. Oh, Edward. "You thought I was going to follow your human path and..." I just stop myself from saying "die".

"For a while there, I was worried."

"Just a while?"  
>He shrugs. "A while. The past thirty seven hours. It's all the same."<p>

"Edward," I whisper and lift his hand. I'm about to kiss his knuckles, when I'm struck with a horrible thought. "I wasn't...was I? Going to, um..."

"No," he shakes his head. "No, it was just me overreacting." He gives me a sheepish smile and I ruffle his hair. "Carlisle assured me you'd be fine."

"Carlisle was here?"

"He brought drugs."

"I think I remember his voice. Oh! And you gave me a cold shower!"

"Your temperature wasn't coming down fast enough. I had to do something."

"You were shaking, I could feel it while you held me. But you don't get cold."

"Scared," he says simply. "It was the shower or hospital. For a while I didn't know if I was making the right decision by keeping you here."

He looks away, out the window, and again I know where his mind has gone. Hospital would have seemed like the end. It was for his parents. And almost for him.

"You made the right decision," I say. "But lots of people do go to the hospital with flu. And lots of people come home again."

"I know." He smiles slowly.

"And, if it came down to it, you would have changed me," I squeeze his hand.

"It's not how I'd want it to be," he says. "Not forced." He turns back to me. "When the time comes I want it to be because you're ready. But yes, if it came down to it, I would have changed you in a heartbeat. Yours not mine." He smiles wryly and his little joke surprises me. I smile back. Then his smile shifts to a frown and he slowly reaches for my neck, gently touching the tips of his fingers to my throat. I see him swallow as he feels the throb of my blood at the place where he will one day make his mark. His fingers rest there, massaging gently in time with my pulse, just as I open my mouth and yawn. Edward rolls his eyes and smiles.

"Always the wrong reaction," he says.

###

I sleep a little more, and when I wake again Edward brings me more tablets, and some soup for lunch.

"It's from a tin," he says apologetically. "But it's something. And it should be easy on your throat. How are you feeling now?"

"Better. Not so achy. My head still feels heavy, but I think I might be over the worst of it."

"Your temperature is normal now. Your heart rate is good. How's the appetite?"

"Truthfully, I'm not that hungry." But I take a slow mouthful of soup. It's warm and soothing on my throat, but... "I can't taste it."

Edward nods. "The flu can dull your sense of taste and smell. It's usually temporary." He encourages me to take another mouthful. "But you still need to eat."

Edward grins and settles himself, cross-legged, on the end of the bed. He seems so much more relaxed now. And relieved. Though there's still a wariness in his eyes. "Acute symptoms usually last between two and three days, so your throat should start to ease soon. Muscle aches and runny nose, too. The cough might hang around. They often do. We need to get you out of bed and moving around soon so your muscles..."

I hold up my hand and he stops.

"You sound like a doctor."

"I am a doctor."

"When it suits you."

He smirks. "And today it suits me." Reaching out, he gently feels beneath my jaw. "Your glands are going down too."

I sip quietly at my soup as Edward watches me but after a couple more mouthfuls I've really had enough and push the tray away. If I expect him to argue, I'm disappointed. He just takes the tray and sets it on the dresser, nudging my phone out of the way as he does so. And it's the sight of my phone that reminds me...

"Joham! You didn't tell me your news. What happened?"  
>Edward smiles and comes back to the bed. "You weren't really in any state to hear my news," he says. "And I wasn't in any state to tell you."<p>

"But now?"

He sits beside me and sighs. "Bella, if I said that it's complicated and now isn't the time, would you accept that?" He gently pushes some hair away from my face. "I'll tell you in a day or two, when you're stronger."

"You're kidding me, aren't you? You think I can wait for a day or two now you've..." The rest of my sentence is cut off by a coughing fit. Edward quickly brings me fresh water and between coughs I empty the glass. When I flop back on the pillows I feel weak and drained and realise maybe he has a point. I don't need "complicated" right now.

"Just tell me, is everything okay? The news isn't bad news? It won't change things between us?"

"Not bad news, just unexpected." He smiles and leans in close, kissing my forehead. "And nothing has to change."

"Okay." I snuggle against him, savouring the feel of him, the feel of his hard chest beneath my cheek, his arms pulling me close. His hand making slow, comforting strokes along my back. He really is the best medicine. "Edward?"

"Yes?"

"What did you mean yesterday, when you said it was your fault? You weren't thinking this had something to do with your influenza?"

"No," he sighs, and I feel his lips in my hair. "It had to do with the fact that you sat in those freezing, damp woods, holding my icy body while I fell apart in your arms."

"No," I say. "You're wrong. You can't catch a cold from being cold. And I had customers coughing and sneezing in the store last week, so..."

"True." His fingers make gentle strokes along my arm. "But if you've already been exposed to a flu, being cold doesn't help. Your body puts all its energy into trying to keep warm instead of fighting the virus." He sighs. "That's why I said it was my fault."

"It's not your fault."

He shrugs. "Right now I'm just focused on getting you well. But I was, at least, a contributing factor in you getting sick."

I lift my head and look at him. "You are unbelievable."

"I know." He kisses my nose and I realise I'm not going to change his mind on this. Not right now, anyway. At least he's focusing on me getting better, and not being sick, which I guess is something positive. So maybe _I_ should focus on _that_. "Would you like a shower?" he asks.

"A warm one this time?"

"Promise."

###

It's just on dusk when all the Cullens come to visit, bearing gifts. My small apartment is suddenly full of flowers, chocolates and vampires. I sit on the living room sofa in my comfy sweats and feel better for being warmly showered and out of bed. Except for the coughing and the ever-present box of tissues, I could almost feel normal again. Almost. And the company of Edward's family is definitely good medicine, if a little overwhelming. Edward hasn't told them about our Christmas Eve wedding plans yet, and for that I'm glad. I don't think I could handle the excitement right now.

"You look much better than I was expecting," Alice says.

"Alice!" Esme chides, and pats my hand. "You look fine, Bella." She gives me a warm smile.

"She looks pale." Emmett grins at me. "She could almost be one of us."

Rosalie shoots him a dark look. "Leave her alone. The girl's been sick, what do you expect."

"You are looking much better," Carlisle smiles. He's sitting in my rocking chair; like that first night he came here and told me Edward didn't know who I was. It seems so long ago now. Edward stands behind him.

"I feel much better. Guess I had a good nurse. Or doctor." I smile at Edward and he winks back. "And I want to thank you Carlisle. Edward said you brought medicine and checked on me."

"It wasn't a problem," he says. "How does your chest feel?"

I take an experimental breath. "Still heavy, but not like before." And of course now I start coughing. Alice thumps me on the back. Esme calls for water.

"She's alright," Edward says quickly. "Thumping her won't help, Alice." He disappears into the bedroom.

Alice stops immediately and I take the glass Esme holds out. There's silence now as everyone watches me put the glass to my lips. It's like feeding time at the zoo. Surprisingly, it's Rosalie who seems to understand my discomfort. She comments to Jasper about one of my history books on the shelf and a conversation about the Civil War begins. Alice joins in. This small gesture almost makes me cry. Rosalie hates history.

The others seem to get the idea. Esme decides to cook soup. "It won't be ready for tonight," she says. "But we'll stock you up for the next few days." She moves into the kitchen and Carlisle goes too. As they look in cupboards, Emmett asks them if there's anything I need from the store.

"I know Edward won't want to leave her to go shopping," he says.

"She needs fruit," Edward says, coming back into the living room. He has a blanket over his arm and my fluffy grey socks in his hand. "The temperature is falling outside," he says quietly to me. "It'll get cold in here soon. You might want this." He drops the blanket on the arm of the sofa and crouches down to slide the socks onto my feet. He smiles when I wriggle my toes. Then he turns to Emmett. "More tissues. And some chest balm."

"Got it," Emmett nods and flashes me a smile. He disappears out the door but returns a second later. "What sort of chest balm? Like sports rub, or that eucalyptus stuff? Do you want the tissues with that aloe vera in them? They're supposed to be gentle on noses."

"Why don't you go with him," I say to Edward. "I'll be fine." His eyes search mine for a moment. They're growing darker, his eyes. He was supposed to hunt while I was in Forks, but I guess me going missing in my truck put a stop to that. "Actually, why don't you go out for dinner?" He gives me a quizzical look. "You must be thirsty." He licks his lips. It's instinctive, a reflex action, I don't think he's even aware he's done it, but it tells me how thirsty he is.

"That's a good idea," Alice chirps up. "Jasper could go too. A boys' night out!"

"Alice..." Edward shakes his head.

"It _is_ a good idea," I say, grabbing a tissue and blowing my nose. "You should go." Edward looks unsure, but I squeeze his hand. "You can bring me fruit and chest balm afterwards."

"Come on." Jasper claps his brother on the back. "She's in good hands here."

"The best," Carlisle smiles and I laugh, but it brings on more coughs. This time Alice resists the urge to thump my back. Instead she hands me the water glass.

"See?" she says to Edward as I drink. "Everything's fine."

###

"He's been so worried," Alice tells me once Edward and his brothers leave. She curls up beside me on the sofa, feet tucked beneath her, and takes my hand. It feels so long since we've talked and it's good to see her. I move closer and rest my head on her shoulder. At least she can't catch anything from me. "We all were, of course. But Edward was..." she shakes her head. No more words are necessary.

"It's understandable," Carlisle says quietly. His sleeves are rolled up and he's slicing an onion with a surgeon's skill. "Considering his history." A shadow clouds his face and a knot forms in my stomach.

"Um, I've never really asked him about it. I always thought…I didn't think it would be something he'd want to talk about."

"I think if he was to discuss it with anyone, it would be you." Carlisle gives me a smile and scoops his onion slices into the pan that Esme is stirring. Alice says something about painting my fingernails but I don't really hear. My mind is on Edward, and his influenza. He's never really said anything. But it's part of him. Part of his story. Maybe he would want to talk about it. I used to be too wrapped up in our bubble to think much about his past, but things are different now. _I'm _different now. So is Edward. I realise, suddenly, that this is something I _want to_ ask him. And maybe this is something Edward wants to talk about, if he's given the chance. I look again at Carlisle, laughing with Esme as they debate how much salt the soup needs. He looks my way and maybe he can see the decision on my face, because he gives me another soft smile, and the subtlest nod of his head. Then he asks me how much salt _I _would recommend for the soup.

Rosalie takes some magazines from her bag and sets them in my lap.

"A bit of light reading," she says, stiffly. "I've finished with them. I thought you might like them. While you're recovering."

The magazines are not my usual reading matter – fashion and lifestyle and cars – but this new, unexpected gesture is so much more than Winter holiday resorts and the latest auto accessories. I stare at her and she shrugs. "You make my brother happy," she says brusquely and gets up to look at my bookshelves again while I stammer a thank you.

"Would you like me to do your hair?" Alice asks. My hand immediately goes to my head. Even though I ran the brush over it this afternoon I'm sure that wasn't enough to make up for two days of neglect. "Actually, that might be..." But I'm interrupted by Alice giggling.

"Nope, scrap that," she says. "I can see someone else has already had that idea."

"You've had a vision?"

She holds up her thumb and finger, just half an inch apart. "Small one. Just a flash." She sighs. "It's about all I get of Edward anymore. I wish I knew why." She frowns. "He lost all direction when he lost his memory and his gift..."  
>"And your visions are based on people having direction," I say. "Making decisions."<p>

Alice nods. "Although he's been making decisions since he met you again. Some of them I see, like the ice skating." She gives me a sheepish smile then sighs. "I think he prefers it this way, though."

"It'll be interesting to see if things change now that he has his gift and his memories back," says Esme.

I look around at the Cullens. "It must be strange now he can read minds again."

"We're out of practice," Alice giggles. "But I think it's strange for him too."

"It was awkward when he came home on Friday," Rosalie adds.

"We were happy for him," says Esme pointedly, throwing a glance in Rose's direction. "And very relieved."

"That might be true," Rosalie sighs. "But you can't deny it was awkward at first." She turns to me. "Usually his filter is faultless, but he's out of practice too. He was responding out loud to our thoughts and he never does that unless he's trying to be deliberately annoying. Which was often." She rolls her eyes and I start to laugh, but of course it turns into a cough. Alice comes to the rescue with the water.  
>"It was confusing," she says, smiling and rubbing my back. "Because, of course, no-one else could hear what he was hearing, so what he was saying didn't make sense. We sounded like a bad comedy skit."<p>

The analogy makes me smile as I hand her back the empty glass. "Yeah, I can imagine." Over Thanksgiving he'd only had Charlie and me to deal with close up. Six lightning fast vampire minds coming at him would have been something very different.

"He seems to be adjusting well, though." Carlisle keeps chopping as he speaks. "And it was only a matter of minutes before he got himself together."

"Was Joham there too, when Edward arrived home?" I know Edward said he'd tell me about the visit and his 'news' later, but I can just ask this, can't I?

Carlisle looks up. "No. Edward and I went to meet with Joham separately. I'm sure he'll fill you in on all that if he hasn't already." He gives me a quick smile and goes back to dissecting a carrot, and my curiosity is piqued even more. A separate meeting. Away from the family. It's obvious Carlisle won't say anymore and I remind myself that Edward said the news wasn't bad.

Esme brings me a sandwich and some fruit. "Eat what you can," she says, and smoothes her hand over my hair. I still can't taste properly but it feels good to eat some solid food. Even though I have to stop every few bites to cough. And by the time I'm finished, I'm yawning hard.

"Do you want to go to bed?" Alice asks.

"No," I mumble, leaning into her. "I'll just rest my eyes."

When I wake I'm in my bed. It's dark, but I can see Edward sitting on the window sill in a puddle of moonlight, knees hugged to his chest, looking out at the street.

When I sniff, he turns to me, a soft smile on his lips. He starts singing quietly, a song I don't recognise, and I fall asleep again.

###

The sun is bright outside the living room window and I'm feeling human again for the first time in days. The cough still lingers, but my nose isn't so runny and my head feels clearer. The aches are gone and I've been out to the mailbox twice today. Just for exercise.

Curled up on the sofa, I'm supposed to be reading Rosalie's magazines, but I'm really looking at Edward. He's sitting sideways in the armchair, legs dangling over the arm, while he studies a psychology text.

"You're staring at me," he says, and a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. Then his gaze moves slowly from the pages, and meets mine. His eyes are warm butterscotch after last night's hunt with his brothers.

"I'm just enjoying the view."

He rolls his eyes, but the smirk turns into a smile as he looks back at his book.

"Miss Swan, are you flirting with me?"

"And if I am?"

"You'll get a reputation."  
>"Only with you."<p>

He looks up again, a quick, wicked glance over the top of his book. "Better be only with me," he says. When I laugh he grins and goes back to reading. "My mother warned me about women like you," he murmurs.

The rare mention of his mother surprises me.

"Oh? What did she say? Beware Bella Swan?"

"Something like that," he chuckles.

"What was she like?" I ask.

A flicker of surprise shows in his features. Then he smiles again, a warm smile. "She was my mother," he says quietly. He focuses back on the book, his eyes running over the page. "I have a photo somewhere. I'll show you sometime, if you like."

"I'd like that."

He nods. "How are you feeling now?" he asks. The quick subject change is not lost on me.

"Okay. A bit drained, but a lot better than I was. With all the good care I've had, I'm guessing this flu wasn't as bad as it could have been." He nods again, but doesn't look up from his book. I put down the magazine. I don't know if this is the right time, but I don't really know when the right time to ask about his own illness, but I don't know when the right time will be.

"Edward, I've never asked you about…we've never talked about what it was like for you when you were sick."

If he wasn't a vampire with heightened hearing I could almost think he hasn't heard me. His pose doesn't move. He doesn't speak. But a moment later, he closes the book. "What would you like to know?" He looks up. His face is smooth, impassive. So is his voice.

"I don't know. I just…I guess I want you to know if you ever want to talk about it, I'll listen."

He studies me for a moment then drops the book over the side of the chair, onto the floor.

"I don't really remember being sick at all. Most of what I know is what Carlisle has told me."

"Oh."

He cocks his head. "Why do you want to know?"

"It's part of your story," I say. "And we've never..." I trail off, wondering if maybe I shouldn't have asked.

"It came on quickly," Edward says very matter-of-factly. "And it progressed even faster. Two days from the first symptoms to the pneumonia and then Carlisle changing me."

Two days? I had no idea. "That's fast."

"It was, but for lots of people it was only a matter of hours."

"Hours?"

He nods. "The virus was extremely virulent and once it took hold..." he shrugs. "Someone could develop symptoms in the morning and be dead by evening. But like I said, I don't really remember being sick. There's not a lot I can tell you."

His voice is so casual. Almost off-hand. Like he's discussing a medical text.

"I didn't realise..."

"Why should you? It was a long time ago." He smiles and looks out the window. "The clouds are coming in," he says, and it's clear the subject is closed. "This afternoon we could take a walk, if you feel up to it. Just down to the corner and back."

"Sure."

I shouldn't have asked. He obviously doesn't want to talk about it. I pick up my magazine again but I can't concentrate. My eyes keep wandering to Edward, still sitting sideways in the chair. Still staring out the window.

His expensive designer jeans have an expensive designer slash in the knee and he starts picking at it, pulling at the frayed threads. It's an unusual thing for him to do. Edward doesn't fidget.

"I never said goodbye to my father," he says quietly, surprising me. He keeps his eyes trained on his knee as I put the magazine down again. "He woke up with a cold and my mother wouldn't let me see him. When I came home from school, there were men wearing white surgical masks, carrying a covered stretcher down the front steps while my mother stood sobbing in the doorway. He'd already died."

"Oh my god..." My hand flies to my mouth and I mumble Edward's name through my fingers.

"There wasn't a lot of time to grieve because my symptoms developed a couple of hours later." The hole in his jeans is getting bigger. "She called for the doctor and the men in the masks came again. I didn't see my mother after that. Carlisle told me later that she'd been ill too. I was too sick to realise. She'd gone to hospital in the same ambulance as me, and I'd had no idea. She lasted another day, dying a few hours before I did. Or, before I _would have_ died." He shakes his head and shudders, so slightly most people wouldn't see, but I do. "I know she begged Carlisle to do whatever he could to save me. He told me that later." He swallows. "I never got to say goodbye to her, either."

I want to climb into his lap and hold him, but I don't. Right now I think he just needs to talk. And he needs me to listen.

"The memories are very hazy," he says. "It's like looking at someone else's dream, not even my own, the images are so unclear, but it's odd, the little things I _do_ remember..." He stops and swallows again. "They shaved me." He touches his hand to his chin. "I was 17, there wasn't much to shave but they did it anyway. And the nurse's trolley had a squeaky wheel."

"Shaved you? Why did they bother with that, if you were so sick?" It seems so ridiculous.

"Hygiene," Edward says wryly. "Hospital rules." He strokes his chin. "Sometimes I wish they'd left me with a couple of days' stubble. I might have been able to pass for older, then." He shrugs. "Apart from the shaving brush and the squeaky wheel, my memories are about how it felt."

I assume he means the burn of the fever. No way am I prepared for what he says next.

"It was...I was _so sad_."

My heart stutters and I give a strangled gasp. My eyes fill and I have to bite hard into my lip. Edward's long fingers still pick at the hole in his jeans. He keeps his gaze down. "Everything from those days is a blur, but there was a moment..." He pauses, closing his eyes. "I don't know whether it was day or night, day one or day two, but there was _one brief, blinding moment of clarity_, when I knew my family was all gone, and I was alone, and probably wouldn't survive. The sadness was..." He shakes his head. His fingers still. "That's my last human memory. My last human feeling. That sadness."

This time I don't stop myself. I'm off the sofa and into his lap, hugging him with everything I have. His arms curl around me, his body curves into mine, so close I can't tell where I end and he begins. I feel him rest his cheek on my head.

"Ssh," he whispers.

"I...had...no idea," I sob.

"Because I never told you," he says. "I've never told anyone."

"I don't want you to be sad."

"I'm not anymore."

I pull back and look up into Edward's face. Touch his cheek. "I love you."

"I love you too," he says, smiling, eyes shining. Then he spoils the moment by handing me the tissue box. "Now blow."

We sit, very quiet and still, for a long time. I try to process what Edward's just told me. So there are no memories of a kindly Dr Cullen telling him everything will be alright, that he could save him. Just the crushing sadness of losing everything. I wonder now if that sadness came with him into this life. When I think about it, how he was in the beginning, I'm pretty sure it did.

I watch him as he looks out the window. There's the hint of a smile on his lips. A calmness in the lines of his face. When he looks down at me, there's contentment in his eyes.

"You're staring," he says.

"I'm still enjoying the view."

"Ah, Miss Swan..." he lifts my hand and kisses it. "You're flirting again."

###

Edward's foot nudges mine beneath the wide study table. The Library is busy but we have this corner to ourselves.

"How are you feeling?" he asks.

"Okay." I cough a little. Outside a misty rain is falling lightly. It's been like this for most of the day. Edward looks from me to the window.

"You should have stayed home. Four days ago you were barely conscious."

"I've already missed Monday and Tuesday. I'll get too far behind."

Besides, I've been nursed so well and so carefully, I feel surprisingly good, and almost back to normal. Four days of sleeping, soup, back rubs and being waited on hand and foot will do that for you.

"I won't let you fall behind," Edward says very matter-of-factly.

"Oh?" I fold my arms and give him a doubtful stare across the table. "How? What would you do?"

"Tutor you. Private lessons." He rocks back on his chair.

"Mm, I know all about your private lessons."

He smirks. "That's not what I meant."

"Oh? Pity. I thought maybe you could tutor me when we got home."

Edward rolls his eyes. "You really are feeling better, aren't you?"

"I am. But how are you feeling?" I tap my temple. This morning as we'd walked across the campus his hand had been tense around mine, but now, after two lectures, he seems more relaxed.

"I'd be lying if I said it didn't take a bit of getting used to." He leans his chair back further, balancing it on two legs. "Already I'm missing the peace, but the grass is always greener, isn't it?"

"Do you wish you could go back..."  
>"No," he says quickly, and comes forward again, leaning across the table and lowering his voice. "There's a different sort of peace, a security, in knowing exactly what people are thinking." He darts a quick glance to his right where a girl is studying the book stacks.<p>

"What's she thinking?" I ask, leaning across the table too. Edward shakes his head. A look of resigned boredom crosses his features. "Oh, come on," I say. "Tell me."

He sighs heavily. "She thinks I have a perfect smile. With perfect teeth." He chuckles quietly, darkly. "She really doesn't want to know, does she?"

I cover my mouth, giggling and surprised, as Edward's lip curls back and he flashes those perfect teeth in a brief, menacing smile. "You know, you haven't really changed that much at all, now that I think about it."

Edward's surprised now too, by the look on his face. "I don't understand."

"Well," I begin and lower my voice, "the other day, you made that joke when you pressed your fingers over my jugular. And that vampire smile just now. I was thinking how you've changed, because you always used to keep that part of you hidden from me as much as you could. But now I'm thinking about the school cafeteria."

"Oh." Understanding floods his face. "The hunting conversation."

"Uh huh. About your hunting weapons."

He flashes the smile again and I laugh. "But from memory, Bella, you weren't laughing that day."

"Well, I was still getting used to...things. But then, when I went to your house that first time, and we were in your room..."

"And I tackled you..."  
>"And I squealed and Alice came up and said she thought you were having me for lunch. And would you share."<p>

He chuckles softly. "And I said no, I didn't have enough to share."

I reach out my hand and he takes it. He strokes his thumb softly over my wrist, over the veins that show through my skin.

"All those discussions about how dangerous you were. Warnings. That whole display in the meadow." I roll my eyes. "You were so much more open about what you were."

"I know."

"But then, after James, and prom...you were different..." I pause, not sure how to explain. "It was like...anything vampirish got locked away. I hadn't really thought about it until now."

"Vampirish?" His lips twitch with an almost-smile.

"You know what I mean." I give him a quick glare. "No more flashing teeth. No more hunting stories or scary displays of strength." I stop and frown. "No more jokes about eating me." I twist my hand and clamp my thumb down on top of his. "Gotcha," I whisper. He looks up, puzzled. "Thumb war," I say. "I just beat you."

"Oh." Edward smiles as he watches our hands. His fingers squeeze mine gently.

"It was almost like anything to do with that side of you was off limits."

"You're right," he says, and I see the smile slowly fade. "I was so happy to have you. So glad and grateful that, after what you'd been through, what you'd seen, you still wanted to be with me." He lifts his eyes. "And I wanted to be as human as possible. For you." Suddenly he flips our hands over. His thumb presses down on mine. "Gotcha." He rubs his thumb over mine in a conciliatory way. "I thought if you saw too much vampire in me..."

"I'd run?"  
>He nods, still watching our hands. "At first I wanted you to run, so you'd be safe. I didn't trust myself, and that's why I was so open, I think. I wanted you to know what you were getting involved with. But then..." He shrugs. "Then I knew I'd never hurt you. And you did bring out the human in me, I've told you that before...and I wanted to concentrate on that. I wanted <em>you <em>to concentrate on that. Gotcha!"

"Oh!"

He chuckles softly and squeezes my hand again. "But you're wrong about me not changing. If I'm more open now it's not because I want to warn you away. It's because I know I can really be myself around you. Gotcha!"

"Hey! You can't do it twice in a row!" My protest brings on some fresh coughs. Edward waits until I'm alright again.

"Why not?" he asks. "What's the point of the contest if we're just taking it in turns?"

"But you just snuck that one in. I was unprepared."

"So?"

"Gotcha! Ha!" I press down on his thumb.

"Hey!"

I twist my hand quickly... "And, gotcha! Again! I win."

Edward scowls, staring at our hands like they've offended him somehow.

"You should be studying," he says, and withdraws his hand gently. "You'll fall behind."

I have a witty "sore loser" retort ready for him, but my phone interrupts me. I frown when I look at the screen.

"Jacob?" Edward asks warily.

I shake my head, not sure if I'm relieved or not. I've been waiting to hear from my best friend since Charlie called yesterday. At least, I think he's still my best friend. My dad was all apologies, letting me know he'd accidentally let slip my engagement news to Sue and Billy and Jake.

"I know you wanted to tell them yourself," he said. "They were pretty shocked. But I'm sure Jake'll come round. If I can, he can. You'll probably get some calls soon."

But so far, all has been silent from La Push. Hoping for messages of congratulations would be too much to expect, I know that. But the silence is unsettling. It's like waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"No, not Jake," I say to Edward. "Renee. Another picture of a wedding dress." I hold up the phone for him to see, and laugh when he wrinkles his nose.

"You'd look ridiculous."

"Like a meringue." I put the phone away.

"Are we still planning for Christmas Eve?" Edward asks and I know what he's getting at. With me being sick we've not talked about the wedding or arranged anything. Charlie and Renee don't know about our Christmas Eve plans. Edward's family knows nothing at all.

"We have time if we're keeping it small and simple."

Edward reaches for my hand again. He smiles. "Just us," he says. "And our families."

I smile back. "We should tell yours."

"Tonight?"

"Sounds good. But before we do..."

"Mm?"

"Joham?"

"Oh." Edward drops my hand and sits back in his chair.

"I think I'm well enough now to hear your news. Don't you?"

He swallows hard and glances around. "This really isn't the place."

"Then we'll find the place. We'll go home. Edward, I've been really good. Really patient. I've waited, but now you're making me nervous." It's true. I know he hasn't forgotten, and each of the last few days I've wondered if he'll tell me. I don't want to wonder anymore. "I want to know." I pause and take a breath. "Is it about your memory?"

"No," he says quickly, and gathers up his books. I notice how carefully he slides my bookmark into place.

"Come on," he says. "We're done with classes for the day, and there's a storm coming. We'll get home before the weather hits and I'll tell you there."

He's frowning, his jaw set hard.

"Edward, everything is okay, isn't it?"

"Yes. Everything's okay." He leans across the table and takes my hand again. "But, Bella..."

"What?"

His thumb clamps down on mine. "Gotcha!"

###

The thunder rumbles as we pull out of the parking lot. Edward holds my hand on the console. He has soft music on the radio and he's humming along quietly.

At the first intersection the lights are out and the queue of cars waiting to cross is long. Police are directing traffic. There's a detour is in place for those who want to take it, but either way, it'll be a longer trip home.

I sigh heavily, and push back in the leather seat. I don't want to wait any longer for Edward's news.

"Maybe you could tell me now," I say. He stops humming and looks at me, studying me, it seems, and I wait for him to tell me no. Instead he takes a deep breath.

"I wonder what your reaction will be?" he says, surprising me.

"Um, well, why don't you tell me and then we'll both know."

He smiles, but there's a distant sort of look in his eyes and I wonder where his mind has gone.

"You said it's not about your memory."

"No."

"Then what?"

The traffic inches forward a little and Edward lets go of my hand to change gears. Suddenly he seems nervous. Almost shy, as he threads his fingers through mine again.

"This isn't the setting I'd imagined," he murmurs.

"I'm sure the information doesn't change with the location."

His eyes flicker to my chest where my heart is pounding.

"A lot of it I don't understand," he says. "There are aspects that don't make sense at all. And it's complicated. Risky. It's a lot to consider. Even if we want to consider it, which we mightn't. But the decision, whatever it is, will be all yours."

"Just tell me, Edward."

He gives me a shaky smile. "We can have a family. If we choose to."

The words don't make sense. "We already have families," I say. Edward looks nervous again.

"No, I mean a new family. A baby. The stories about Joham are true."

The words still aren't sinking in. Maybe I'm still fuzzy from the flu. Maybe I've not heard right.

"A baby?"

Edward makes a soft sound of frustration. "To put it more bluntly, Bella..." He leans in close and whispers in my ear. "I can get you pregnant."

Now I get it. I gasp and pull back, watching the hesitant, wary expression grow on Edward's face.

"I probably shouldn't have put it quite so crudely," he says.

"No, no, crude is fine. I mean..._how_?"

"The usual way," he says quietly.

The traffic moves again and a nervous silence settles over us as the car moves forward. Then Edward takes my hand again.

"Say something," he whispers. "Please. Anything."

My mind is racing, thoughts tumbling over themselves as I try to process this news. And I say the first thing that comes to mind.

"I love you."

Edward's face dissolves into a dazzling smile. "That's good to know." He lifts my hand to kiss.

"What else can you tell me?" I ask and when Edward speaks his words are slow and measured.

"It's a big decision. A pregnancy would have risks, and it would have to result in your change. But with the right preparation, with the right care...I won't deny you this, Bella. If it's what you want, we can try."

His eyes are so serious, so earnest. I don't know where to start.

"If it's what I want?"

He nods.

"Um..." I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. Could we really do this? "What else...what else do I need to know?"

The traffic picks up a bit and as the car crawls across the intersection Edward tells me all about six month pregnancies, bed rest and diets of blood, and c-sections by knives with special stone-cutter blades.

"I know it sounds gruesome."

"But it's doable. We could have a baby?"

"We have the potential, yes."

The rain comes down harder. There's a flash of lightning. The traffic ahead of us slows again as car tyres send arcs of water into the air.

It's so much to take in. "What about the children?" I ask. "Are they vampire? Human?"

"A mixture," Edward says. "Like a human child they take characteristics from both parents. They develop at a slightly faster rate than an average human child, but not enough to raise suspicions."

"Immortal?"

"No. But a very long life. The ageing process slows down once they reach maturity. They age roughly one year in every twenty." He shifts gear again as we turn a corner. "But as I said Bella, the decision is all yours. Whatever you want. You don't even have to think about it if you don't want to."

"But, you'd agree to this, if it's what I wanted?"  
>"Yes." He squeezes my hand. "You don't have to decide now, of course. You don't ever have to think about it again if you don't want to."<br>"This is why you didn't want to tell me while I was sick?"

"I thought it might be a bit much."

I nod. I think he's right.

I look out the window, watching people drive past with no idea of the life-changing conversation I'm having right now.

"Bella? Are you alright?"

"Yes. Just...thinking." His hand tightens around mine.

"I've given you a lot think about," he says softly.

I just want to absorb this news. Soak it in and savour it. I could give him this. A family.

We arrive at my apartment. We walk upstairs in silence. Edward helps me off with my coat and I go to the bedroom to change into sweats and thick socks. When I come back into the living room he's lying on the sofa and hesitantly opens his arms to me. His face is so unsure but he smiles a little when I lie down alongside him and curl into his body.

"Hungry?" he asks.

"Not really."

"Tired?"

"A bit."

He settles me closer. I feel the steady in and out of his breathing. The slow, even, rise and fall of his chest beneath my cheek. The gentle caress of his hand on my back. His feet tangled with mine. I love him. And I realise, as he holds me, that I already know my decision. But I'm not sure about his.

"Edward?"

"Mm..."

"You've said this will be my decision. Whatever I want."

"Yes."

"You won't deny me a baby, if I want that."  
>"That's right."<p>

I lift my head and meet his wary gaze. "But what do you want?"

He blinks, almost like he's not understood the question. "I want you to be happy, Bella."

"I know. But I want that for you too. I want _you _to be happy." I sit up and he shifts so now I'm straddling his hips. His eyes are wide and curious as he looks up at me. "I've been thinking about...everything. Edward, a baby has to be something _we both_ want." I pause to gather my thoughts. "And I'm pretty sure that as a 17 year old human, having children was the furthest thing from your mind, right? You wouldn't have wanted to be a father."

He watches me closely. "Yes. That's true. And you're thinking I'm still 17, so that might still be the way I feel."

I shrug. "You haven't actually _said_ how you feel. You just keep telling me that it's my choice, whatever I want."  
>"I don't want my feelings to influence your decision, either way."<p>

"But you can't do that. You can't keep yourself out of the decision. This involves both of us. Our baby would be _part of_ _us._ Do you want this? I want to know what _you _want."

"What I want?"

"Yes."

Edward sucks in a sharp breath. His eyes wander from my face, down my body, and settle on my stomach. He reaches out, his hand moving under my sweatshirt and resting on the bare flesh of my belly.

"What I want," he whispers.

His fingers caress me softly, slow gentle circles. His touch is so tender, so loving. Tears well in my eyes and I smile as his gaze moves back to my face. He smiles too.

"I want this," he says.

**A/N: Thank you for your patience. I know this chapter has been a long time coming, much longer than I'd intended, and I'm sorry **

**Thank you for your reviews. All your comments and feedback mean a lot to me and I appreciate them so much. I try to respond to them all, if I haven't got you, I'm sorry, but please know I read them all **

**And thank you Melanie for your super speedy beta skills. And your friendship **

**Have you read Melanie's work? She's Edward'sEternal on FF and her stories are brilliant.**

**I have some more news for those readers who are interested in my original work. My first novel, Over the Edge, is available now for pre-order. It's release date is set for 9 May. It's a romantic comedy, set in Australia. For info and updates you can check out my website - .com I have a FaceBook page too – Suzanne Carroll, Writer. And I'm on Twitter as Suzanne_Carroll or Windchymes11. **

**Thanks again for reading, and reviewing. The next chapter of The Keepsake is already under way **


	17. Chapter 17

**Quick Recap: Bella survived the flu. Edward has told her it's possible for them to have a baby and he won't deny her that, if it's what she wants. Bella asked Edward what ****_he_**** wants. **

**Previously on The Keepsake...**

"Edward, you haven't actually _said_ how you feel. You just keep telling me that it's my choice, whatever I want."  
>"I don't want my feelings to influence your decision, either way."<p>

"But you can't do that. You can't keep yourself out of the decision. This involves both of us. Our baby would be _part of_ _us._ Do you want this? I want to know what _you _want."

"What I want?"

"Yes."

Edward sucks in a sharp breath. His eyes wander from my face, down my body, and settle on my stomach. He reaches out, his hand moving under my sweatshirt and resting on the bare flesh of my belly.

"What I want," he whispers.

His fingers caress me softly, slow gentle circles. His touch is so tender, so loving. Tears well in my eyes and I smile as his gaze moves back to my face. He smiles too.

"I want this," he says.

**CHAPTER 17**

**Bella's living room. On her sofa. Edward's lying down while Bella sits above him, straddling his hips.**

**Edward's point of view.**

"I want this."

Edward could barely believe he'd said the words. Couldn't believe he'd given voice to a deep longing he had never even recognised, let alone acknowledged. Until now.

He stared into Bella's eyes, lost in their depths, his new heart open for her to see. He'd carried the news of their potential for almost a week, but Bella's illness had overtaken everything. And while Edward had allowed himself a few fleeting moments to think about this new information, he hadn't let himself _feel._ And now that he did, those feelings came as a shock. A revelation that shook him and held him in a heady mix of excitement and disbelief.

He wanted this. A family of his own. Of_ their _own.

His words seemed to echo in the silence of Bella's living room. They echoed in his head. He felt them in his heart.

He wanted this.

But only if Bella wanted it too, and so far, she hadn't actually _said_ what she wanted. And maybe _he'd_ said too much.

His words had faded away now, overtaken by silence.

Slowly, Edward withdrew his hand from Bella's stomach. He held his breath, still locked in her gaze, waiting for her reaction, not allowing himself to think or analyse. Or hope. He ignored the small, dark, twisted corner of his mind that was preparing for the worst. That Bella might not feel the same. That, faced with this new reality of hybrid children, she might be repulsed.

Seconds ticked by. Lots of seconds.

Then a slow, warm smile began to dawn across Bella's face. Like sunrise, Edward thought.

"I like the name Elliot, for a boy," she whispered. "Maybe Lara for a girl."

Despite Edward's vast intellect, it still took him a moment to fully understand Bella's words, or measure the meaning in her smile. And when realisation hit, it hit hard. His breath shuddered and broke as he exhaled sharply. His fingers trembled as he gripped Bella's hips. He swallowed hard as hope flooded his heart and a new future, a new life, played out in his mind.

"They're fine names," he whispered. "Very fine names." He began to smile too, but stopped suddenly. "Are...are you crying?" Edward quickly brushed away the tear from Bella's cheek.

"Happy," she whispered. "I'm happy."

Edward thought his heart might burst. He opened his legs so she fell between them, her body lying the length of his now, her cheek to his chest. He stroked her back and kissed her hair and wished he had the words to tell her how he felt.

"You really told me..." she said, and he felt more tears dampen his shirt.

"Told you what?"

"What _you _wanted." Sniffing, she lifted her face and touched her fingers to his cheek as she looked into his eyes. "You told me what you wanted. You never do that. But today you did. You want this and you're not just doing it for me because I want it. You're doing it _for you, too_."

Edward wondered if maybe he had found the words, without even realising.

She kissed him then, brushing her lips over his softly, slowly. Edward tangled his hands in her hair. Joy swelled through him, filling him, until it overflowed and he felt he would explode with the force of it. He couldn't quite take in the change his life just taken. In just these last few minutes, with a few words. He'd thought Bella agreeing to be his wife was the greatest happiness he would ever have, but now...

She didn't have to miss out by being with him. He could give her children. He could give her everything. He could be the man he would have been, _should _have been, if he'd stayed human. He could be a father. It was almost too much. And Edward didn't know what to do with these new feelings. So he held Bella close and told her he loved her. The words didn't seem enough. But at the same time they were everything.

"I love you, too." Bella smiled. "We can really do this?"

"Yes." Edward nodded, shifting their position slightly so he could kiss along her jaw, wanting to be as close to her as he could. "We really can. But there's still a lot to discuss." He kissed beneath her ear and smiled when she shivered. "There'd have to be careful planning, special care taken..." He pulled back to see her eyes. "And Bella, if you think I'm protective of you now..." He stopped talking when she pressed her lips to his and kissed him hard. Edward deepened the kiss as much as he dared. He ran his hands along her back. "So...you want this too?" he murmured and Bella chuckled softly.

"You just want to hear me say it again, don't you?"

"I do." He chuckled too. "So...you want this?"

"I do. I want this. With you." She sighed and smiled. "I never wanted kids just for the sake of having them. But with you..." She nestled closer against his chest. "Not just yet, though," she said. "After college?"

"Whenever you're ready," Edward said. "Just tell me. I'll be there." Desire burned in his veins. In his chest, his heart felt like it would start beating any moment. "And that gives us plenty of time to plan."

"Lots of planning." Bella smiled. "And practice?" She nipped at his ear, hooked one leg over his and pressed her hips against him. Edward gasped softly. His body responded. He wanted her; he wanted her so much, but...

"Flu," he muttered as he kissed over her throat, his hands grabbing her hips, stilling her movements, but keeping the contact. "You're still recovering..."

"Edward, I'm all better. Trust me."

Edward was more than happy to trust her. He clutched her tighter, bringing her closer. The pulse in her neck pounded beneath his lips and she moaned as he slid his leg between hers. She sat up, straddling him again, and he smoothly pulled her sweater over her head, leaving her bare and beautiful above him, her hair a messy, chestnut cloud around her shoulders.

"Bella..." His whisper was almost a moan. He gently cupped and teased her breasts while her trembling fingers worked at the zipper of his jeans. And that was when the thoughts began to filter through from the street below.

"No..." Edward groaned and winced. "No..."

"What? What's wrong?"

"Guests." He wanted to say intruders. Invaders. And he wondered if there had ever been worse timing in the history of the world. He decided there hadn't been.

"Who?"

Edward sighed. "Your work friends. From The Drum. They've come to see how you're feeling."

Out on the footpath, Scott was wondering how much Bella paid each month for an apartment in this part of town. Amaranthe was hating herself for being roped into this visit because she was sure Bella was the type who would prefer to recover in peace and quiet. Alison was patting herself on the back for her good deed.

"Oh." Bella frowned and glanced over her shoulder to the door. "We could just stay really quiet and not answer."

"We could. But your truck is parked out front. They know you're here." He swore, quietly to himself, and began to recite the periodic table of elements in Russian to bring his body to heel. And while he did that Bella sighed and bit her lip. When the knock came she adjusted her sweater while Edward adjusted his pants. He hoped very hard that her friends wouldn't stay long because this had turned into one of the most incredible, significant days of his life and right now there was no place in it for anyone else. Except Bella, of course.

"Wow, hi. Um, what a surprise." Bella smiled as she held open the door for Scott, Alison and Amaranthe. "Come in. You've all met Edward, haven't you?"

There were shy nods of greeting and Edward raised his hand in hello. He debated flashing a wide, welcoming smile. With all his teeth. Maybe even add the unnaturally smooth tilt of his head. That was usually enough to clear a room. But he behaved himself.

"This is for you, Bella." Alison handed over a bunch of flowers. "We thought we should come and say hi and see how you are. You're looking a bit flushed, do you still have a fever?" She took a cautious step back.

Bella quickly assured her she was fine and sniffed the bouquet. "These are great, thanks, but you didn't have to. And I'll be back at work in two days anyway..."

"We told her that," Amaranthe muttered and Alison shot her a look.

"Hey, a rocking chair! My gran had one of these." Scott sat down and started rocking, clearly making himself at home. Alison took a place on the sofa. After some hesitation, Amaranthe joined her. Bella offered coffee and a resigned Edward followed her behind the kitchen counter to help.

"So, did everyone have a good Thanksgiving?" Bella asked. "Did I miss much at work?" Alison began about a tale about a customer wanting to buy a harpsichord as Edward got the good mugs down from the high shelf and Bella boiled water. His fingers grazed hers as they each spooned coffee from the jar into the mugs. Bella added the milk. Edward stirred in the sugar. Her breasts brushed against his arm as she moved past him on her way back to the fridge. Edward hissed softly. Bella bit her lip. Alison asked if they needed any help and frowned when they started to laugh.

Edward sat cross-legged on the floor and Bella squeezed onto the sofa next to Amaranthe. Alison was still talking so he zoned out, keeping just a small part of his brain on alert in case he was called upon for some sort of interaction. But he didn't think that seemed likely. Alison had barely drawn breath since she'd arrived. So he sat quietly, pretending to sip his coffee as he and Bella exchanged quick glances over the rims of their mugs. And he tried to seem normal. Even if it wasn't the way he felt. Because too much had happened this afternoon. He'd opened himself to new feelings and ideas and possibilities and he hadn't had time to properly process it all yet. And Edward needed time. That's just the way he was. Right now his heart and mind were in overload. His body too. He ached for Bella. But he played his part. And sipped his coffee. Like this wasn't one of the biggest days of his life.

While Alison talked about her plans for re-organising the stock room Edward watched the way Bella licked her lips after each sip of coffee. He noticed the way her sweater pulled ever so slightly across her breasts with each intake of breath. He liked the way her thumb stroked the handle of the mug. His mind wandered to thoughts of her pregnant, her belly full with his child. Their child.

He thought of the treehouses he'd build. Music lessons. The games they'd play and the kites they'd fly. Bike riding lessons. The stories he'd read. He still had his childhood copy of _Treasure Island._ His eyes wandered to Bella's book shelves and her well-loved copy of _Alice in Wonderland. _ In a storage shed in Chicago were, amongst other things, a set of tin soldiers and a train set. Antiques to some, family treasures to Edward. They'd been his father's, and then Edward's, and now...

His heart swelled anew as he realised that, maybe, he could have the life his parents would have hoped for him, after all.

"Edward, what do you think?" Alison was looking at him expectantly and he scanned her thoughts quickly to catch up with the conversation. Ah, 70's music. The Ramones.

"I'm not a big fan of 70's music," he said. "I did like some of The Ramones' early albums. But I preferred the Sex Pistols."

Alison was surprised, Edward didn't seem like a Sex Pistols fan, but his answer satisfied. She went back to discussing The Ramones and Edward went back to his thoughts.

What if he and Bella had a daughter?

Edward almost spilled his coffee. He knew nothing of little girls and his mind shifted away from early 70's punk, to doll houses and tea parties and ballet lessons. Did girls like tree houses? Edward wasn't sure.

He shook his head, trying to clear the chaos in his thoughts. He was getting ahead of himself. Way ahead. There was still so far to go, so much to decide. He shouldn't be stocking the toy box just yet. He took a slow, deep breath and focused on the conversation around him, but it wasn't long before his mind was back on the same path, even if it was going in a slightly different direction this time.

He hadn't been kidding when he'd told Bella that he'd be protective. If they did this, he'd be by her side every second of her pregnancy. He'd never leave her. His family would have to bring him his meals in a thermos.

He wondered if he was being selfish, wanting this with Bella? It was a risk for her, a great risk, even with all the information they had and the care she'd be given. But she wanted it too. She'd said so.

Scott told a joke, Edward dragged himself back into the conversation. He laughed along and joined the chatter for a while. More music. The new spy movie that had had nothing but bad reviews yet was burning up the box office. The latest series of The Office and whether the English version was better than the American one. He smiled and nodded and gave opinions. He answered Scott's questions about his car. Amaranthe admired his jacket and he texted her the details of the website where he'd bought it. And then he slipped back into his thoughts as Alison held court again.

Their child would be part vampire, and that would mean hunting lessons. He'd teach them how to stalk and bring down prey. How to hold the legs of an animal still so it didn't thrash while it was drained of its life blood. Show them how to pick the biggest deer in a herd. Teach them the best way to raise a bear from its sleep. How to cut off a mountain lion mid-jump. That was Edward's specialty. It was all a far cry from bike riding and ballet lessons, but just as important.

He looked at Bella, biting her lip as she listened to Alison. He'd teach her these things too, when she was like him. His mind shifted again as he imagined her first hunt, under his instruction. The images made his body stir and he quickly took a deep gulp of coffee, knowing its bitter effect would be much swifter than reciting the periodic table in Russian.

And then Edward focused on Bella's friends again. There'd be time to think and process everything later.

The conversation moved to ice hockey and books and then Thanksgiving as Scott teased Amaranthe over her vegetarian turkey and Alison wondered if she could ask for a second cup of coffee and decided they should all order take-out because this was so cosy and fun. She'd even brought menus with this in mind, just in case. Edward shot Bella a quick look, hoping she'd understand. From the almost-wink she gave him, he guessed she did. A moment later Bella set down her mug and did the most exaggerated yawn Edward had ever seen. And if Alison didn't get the message, Amaranthe did.

"Bella needs her rest," she said, standing and collecting the mugs.

"But I was going to suggest we all get take-out and keep Bella company." Alison looked confused because leaving now wasn't part of her plan. Scott said he felt like Thai food. Or pizza. Just not Mexican because he'd had that for breakfast.

"Bella already has company," Amaranthe said. She pulled up the hood of her coat and stood by the door.

Alison was about to protest but Bella stood up. "Thanks so much for coming," she said. "And for the flowers." Edward unfolded himself from the floor and went to stand behind her, smiling. He rested his hands lightly on her hips. She leant back against him, her warmth radiating through his body. He knew the next time he got her alone and in his arms, he wouldn't be letting go.

"But, I've got menus." Alison opened her bag, revealing a pile of paper. "And I thought it would be a good opportunity for us all to plan the store Christmas party. My uncle can get inflatable reindeers at cost. Snowmen, too."

Edward slowly widened his smile, opening his lips a little, giving Alison just a glimmer of teeth. But it was enough.

Alison suddenly felt very uncomfortable, though she didn't know why. "Of course," she said, and closed her bag. "You need to rest."

"So, no pizza?" Scott got out of the rocking chair.

"We can go out for pizza." Alison grabbed his arm. "There's a place not far from here." she said and bustled him out the door that Amaranthe held open.

"What did you do to Alison?" Bella asked, giggling, once the door was closed.

"Nothing. I smiled at her. That's all."

"Oh. Smile. Right. You did the vampire thing?"

"_The vampire thing_," he smirked. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what it means." She bared her own teeth and Edward laughed.

"Very menacing," he said. "I'm scared."

"You should be."

He gave her a wide, toothy vampire smile in return and rolled his eyes when she laughed, just like always.

"And it's that disregard for your own safety that's got us to where we are now," he said.

She took a step towards him. "And where exactly are we now, Edward?"

Edward took a step closer, too. Reaching out, he hooked his finger into one of the belt loops of Bella's jeans. He stared into her eyes as he slowly pulled her towards him. He lowered his face and kissed her, very slowly, pulling her body flush with his. Letting her feel how he wanted her. How he loved her.

"I'd say we're here," he whispered.

He lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bedroom, turning on the heat as he went.

ooo

Bella was beautiful. So beautiful. As Edward undressed her he kissed each piece of new skin he exposed. All her gasps and sighs were music to him. The most amazing symphony he would ever hear. And it played just for him. Only him.

"Love you," Bella murmured as Edward brushed his lips against her thigh. His body burned with desire. Bella's scent was intoxicating. Her touch was fire. He growled softly when she tangled her fingers in his hair and tugged. "Want you. Now."

Edward wasn't going to deny her. Or himself.

Holding his breath, he watched Bella's face as he slid into her. His body trembled, letting the bliss wash over him as she took him in. Her body arched and she moaned and Edward bit back the growl that rumbled deep in his chest. So beautiful. The ecstasy painted across her face mirrored his.

The desire for her that had been smouldering before was blazing now. Every time with Bella was perfect, but this time something was different. All week since her illness, all afternoon since his news, his emotions had been kept in check. Pent up and locked down. Now Edward gripped the headboard, and let himself go.

This was more than making love. Every thrust was an affirmation of life. Bella's life. The new life they could create together. Edward began to lose himself, but Bella did too. She grabbed at his arms, the sheets, his hair, while Edward's hands clawed at the wooden headboard. Her blood raced and roared as she cried out his name. _His _name. Her fingernails raked down his back. The venom pooled in Edward's mouth. Bella's nails on his skin, his name on her lips, the throb of life through her veins, calling him...

Edward's jaw locked tight.

And he gritted his teeth.

The headboard splintered in his hands. He tried to slow down, but a desperate, pulsing need drove him on. A raw, primal instinct to possess her. To claim. To truly make her his in _every way._ Then Bella's body shuddered, hard, against his. She threw back her head, the arch of her throat so exposed and white in the early evening light. Edward couldn't hold back. A deep roar ripped from his chest as he found his own pounding release, and as he did, he turned his face and sank his teeth deep into the muscle of his arm.

ooo

Edward felt like his body had shattered into a thousand burning pieces. But his post-orgasmic bliss only lasted a moment before a cold creeping panic began to steal over him.

_What had he just done? _

He let go of the broken headboard and lifted his face slowly. He ignored the stinging throb in his arm and the part of his brain that told him this might be the thing that would finally send Bella running and screaming.

Edward forced himself to look her in the eye. Her shock was obvious as she stared at him, open-mouthed, but what else? Was she scared? Horrified?

Disgusted?

He tried to read her expression but her gaze drifted to his arm.

"Bella, I'm so sor..."

"No, don't," she said quickly, shaking her head.

"Did I scare you?"

"No," she said slowly. "No, I just didn't expect...I've never seen you..." She looked around them. The bed was broken and the headboard was shattered. The sheets were a torn, tangled mess around their legs. Edward hesitantly brushed some splinters of wood from Bella's hair.

"I didn't expect_ this_." She finished her original thought.

"Neither did I," Edward said.

"I've never seen you bite."

His eyes closed and he swallowed hard. "I'm so..."

"No, no, it's okay. I think I'm just...surprised. Shocked."

Just shocked. Not disgusted or horrified. His eyes searched hers, looking for the truth. And he found it. Relief flowed through him.

"Me too," he said and rolled off her and onto the mattress. "I'm so sor..." he began and stopped when she shook her head again.

"Are you okay?" she asked. Edward chuckled darkly.

"I think I should be asking you that." He turned to face her and his eyes did a quick assessment of her naked body.

"I'm fine," she said, and she wriggled a little bit to demonstrate. "See? All in one piece." But Edward didn't miss the faint wince that crossed her face. His heart sank.

"Bella, please don't...I need you tell me the truth."

He knew that in the past she'd often told him things she thought he wanted to hear. He hoped they'd moved beyond that now. He needed her honesty.

"I can feel where you've been," she whispered, smiling gently and touching his cheek. "And I feel a bit...unhinged. In a good way. Like after exercise." She lifted his hand and kissed it, then her gaze drifted to his arm again. She touched her fingers to his bicep.

"Does it hurt?"

"Stings."

"There's no mark."

"Not to human eyes." He debated for a moment, then took her finger to slowly trace the silver curve on his skin. He watched her face as her eyes followed the path of their fingers.

"But other vampires can see it? Your family?"

He nodded.

"And...they'll know?"

"They might." He decided he'd be wearing long sleeves around Emmett for a while.

Edward let go of her hand, but her finger stayed on his skin.

"I'm so sorry." He finally got to make his apology. Bella smiled softly, still touching the scar she couldn't see.

"S'okay," she said. "It's part of who you are. And I wasn't scared..." She stopped and looked up suddenly, meeting his eyes. "_Should_ I have been scared?"

Edward frowned. It was probably one of the most sensible questions she'd ever asked him.

"I...I don't think so," he said. They both looked at the swell of his bicep. Edward swallowed hard. "The urge to bite during sex is always there, but usually I'm well in control of it. Today..." He looked at Bella. "Today was too much," he whispered. "There was too much to feel. I didn't know what to do with it all."

"Oh, Edward," she said, pulling him to her. "But you were still in control. This proves it." She ran her fingers over his arm.

Edward curled around her then. "I probably should have gone for a run instead."

Bella laughed and he lifted his face from between her breasts and smiled.

"You think that's funny?" he said.

"Yes."

"I'm serious."

"I know." She stroked the hair back from his forehead. "You needed time. And a bit of space to get your head around everything and my friends dropping by didn't help." She kissed him. "You needed to run. That's your thing. It's what you do. I should have realised too." She gave a small shrug. "We should have paced ourselves."

He sighed and curled into her again, revelling in her love. Marvelling at her acceptance. And her understanding. Surely someone like her couldn't be meant for him. "Everything was so much...more," he murmured.

"For me too," she said.

When she scratched her fingers over the back of his neck, Edward sighed.

"Have you noticed something?" she asked and he could hear the smile in her voice.

"What?"

"You're not beating yourself up over this."

Edward looked up at her, blinking. She had a point. He knew that there'd been a time when something like this would have sent him from her bed, swearing never to touch her again and that he should never have touched her in the first place. Yet here he was, lying in her arms, his leg between hers, feeling her heart beat against his chest. He wondered at the change in him and whether it had come purely from selfishness – that he knew now what it was like to live without her and would never put himself through that again. Or was it because he knew, in his heart, that they were meant to be together. And being together meant accepting who he was.

"You're right," he said. "I'm not beating myself up." He looked at silver arc on his arm. "I'm working with what I've got." He sighed when Bella tightened her arms around him. "But I'm still not happy with myself," he said.

"Oh?" She giggled and the colour in her cheeks deepened. She wiggled her hips against him. "After your performance this afternoon I think you should be very happy with yourself, Edward. I know I'm happy with you."

He chuckled wryly. "You're flirting again, Miss Swan."

"Oh, I'm more than flirting, Mr Cullen. Or hadn't you noticed?" She nudged him gently with her knee and he hissed.

"I noticed."

She smiled and nuzzled his cheek. "This is so much better than beating yourself up, isn't it?"

His hands moved over her back, slow strokes that gradually swept lower and lower. "Much better," he said.

**oooo0oooo**

**A couple of hours later, sitting at Bella's kitchen counter ...**

**Bella's point of view**

"Mm, this is good." I take another mouthful of the tuna casserole that Edward has made for me, and sigh. "Where did you learn to make it? Food Network?"

Edward nods and leans back against the cupboards, smiling. There's a dish towel thrown over his shoulder and it's a sight worthy of a picture. My domestic vampire.

He tosses the dish towel onto the sink and pulls up a stool. The smile hasn't left his face since we climbed out of bed two hours ago. I reach across the counter and take his hand. And I yawn.

"You're tired," he says.

"It's been a big day."

"It has."

We sit smiling at each other, holding hands in my tiny kitchen.

When I push my empty plate aside Edward puts it in the sink and we move to the sofa. I stretch my legs across his lap.

"Will you tell me about Joham?" I say. "If he came to talk about your lost memory, how did you get onto a discussion about babies?"

"That was Carlisle," Edward says, rubbing his hand slowly along my leg. "He'd already asked Joham about his children before I arrived. It was under the guise of research, and he was curious, naturally, but he was also gathering information for us. Just in case." He gives me a shy sort of smile that makes my heart flutter. Of course he hears it. He drops his eyes, still smiling, and shakes his head while I feel the heat of my blush on my skin.

"Anyway," he continues, "Joham was only too happy to share the details and talk all about it. Then Carlisle filled me in later. He replayed the conversation for me in his thoughts."

"Was Carlisle surprised too?"

"Shocked, is probably a better word," Edward says. "We all thought the myths were just that. Myths." He pushes up the leg of my sweat pants and makes circles above my knee with his finger. Then he tickles the back of my knee, making me squeal and jerk away. He laughs, grabs my leg and pulls it back, holding it firmly in place across his lap.

"So, a six month pregnancy?"

"Yes." Edward nods.

"Blood diet?"

"Um, I'm afraid so," he says apologetically.

"Human blood?" I can't help wrinkling my nose a little.

He nods again. Very slowly. Watching me carefully. "Carlisle would have access through the hospital."

"But I could eat normal food too?"

"Yes."

"And a C-section, with a special scalpel..."

"A serrated diamond-edged scalpel."

"Yeah, that sounds pretty special. And then..."

"And then I would change you." I see him swallow hard.

"How soon after the baby's born? Would I get to hold it?"

"There'd be time, yes. But your body would be weakened by then and the change would have to be soon. Your heart needs to have the strength to pump my venom around your body."

"So, five minutes? Ten?"

"It depends, but within the half hour."

I nod, taking it all in again. He told me all this before, in the car, but I was so busy getting my head around everything...the details were a blur.

"But the baby is mortal?"

"It will have a beating heart, yes."

"And he or she will live for about a thousand years?" Suddenly I realise what this means. In theory, Edward and I would outlive our child. My heart sinks a little. I think Edward understands.

"Yes," he whispers. There's a flicker of sadness in his eyes. "That's something we'll have to consider, too."

"How old are Joham's children?"

"There are five of them," he says. "Their ages range from twenty one to 117, but none of them looks older than their early twenties. Their development is similar, but a little faster, than a human child's. Then the ageing process seems to slow down once they reach maturity at around eighteen or nineteen."

My mind starts ticking and suddenly it's like the proverbial light bulb has gone on over my head. I grip Edward's hand.

"Bella?"

"Eureka moment," I mumble. "Give me a sec." I sit up as I try to get this idea straight in my head. "Okay, they reach maturity around eighteen, then the ageing slows right down."

"Yes."

"And their bodies work like a human's body?"

"Well, yes. The vampire characteristics are mainly in speed and strength and heightened senses. Keener eyesight, sense of smell, taste, hearing. They can hunt, but they need human food to survive. And according to Joham, they prefer meatloaf to mountain lion. In theory, they could even have children of their own."

I take a deep slow breath as the pieces of my picture come together. "Edward, if they wanted, could they be changed once they've reached maturity? You know, at or twenty five or thirty, or whatever?"

Edward's mouth falls open. "I...hadn't thought..."

"It's possible, isn't it? If they have a beating heart?"

He stares at me, blinking slowly, processing. "I don't know, I think, possibly, yes." He sits up straighter too. "You're saying they'd have a choice. Once they reach maturity, they decide for themselves whether to live out a very, very long life, or become immortal."

"Yes."

"I don't know," he says again, frowning now. "I'll mention it to Carlisle, see what he thinks. It's not something we'd want to try without knowing for sure." He pulls his hand through his hair and a shaky half-smile curves his on his lips. "I thought I had all the answers," he says.

"But we've only found more questions."

Edward gently touches my cheek. "Bella, if you change your mind, if you decide you don't want to..."

I'm about to protest and tell him I'm not going to change my mind, I'm just thinking things through, that's all, but then I remember this is Edward I'm talking to. So I don't protest. Instead I acknowledge what he saying to me.

"I understand," I smile. "This is ultimately my choice."

He nods.

"And if I have doubts, or change my mind, that's okay with you."

He nods again.

"But the same goes for you," I say. "If you change your mind. Or have doubts."

There's a flicker of confusion across his face. Then he smiles.

"And if we decide not to go ahead..." I snuggle closer, "it'll still be you and me. And that's okay."

"More than okay," Edward whispers. He lowers his face and kisses me softly.

When he pulls away a moment later, I lean my head on his shoulder and take the conversation on a slightly different path.

"Did Joham have any clues about you losing your memory?"

Edward shakes his head. "No. He was baffled by the whole thing, like we had been." He draws some more random shapes on my leg. "In the end, I think Carlisle's reasoning comes closest," he says, and looks up at me through his lashes. "Losing you was too painful. I blocked my memories to survive." He looks back down at his invisible artwork. A frown clouds his face and I kiss his cheek.

"I'm right here," I whisper.

Edward smiles. "You are," he says and gives my leg a squeeze. "And I suppose, without knowing about you or that part of the story, it's not surprising Joham couldn't come to any conclusions. He thought it was very _peculiar_." Edward frowns. "He thought _we _were very peculiar. Our vegetarian lifestyle intrigued him, and his friends."

"He wasn't alone?"

"No. He came with two male vampires. Oscar and Cornelius. Followers, of sorts. They wanted to know how we hunt. How we've lived among humans. Everything. The surprising thing was, Joham had already done some research on us. He knew we'd lived in Rochester and Alaska and Forks and he knew about the Quileute legends too. That's what he was most curious about."

I sit up quickly, surprised. "How would he know about the wolves?"

"Google."

Google? _Seriously? _ "The wolves are on google?"

"The legends are." He goes back to doodling on my leg.

"Well, what did you tell him? About the wolves?"

"Very little. Carlisle played it way down and said we'd heard the legends too but they were just that; legends. Joham believed him because he was certain werewolves wouldn't let vampires anywhere near their territory."

I lean back against his shoulder again. "You didn't mention the treaty, then?"

"No. And going by their thoughts, any interest they had in the legends seemed to fade pretty quickly then." He writes his initials above my knee, carefully marking out an invisible E, an A and then the C.

"Did they know you could read their minds?"

"No," he says and makes a flourish beneath his autograph. "Sometimes it's better to keep that quiet."

He's frowning now and I reach up to smoothe the small V that has formed between his eyebrows. "You didn't like him, did you?"

"No." His frown deepens. "The human women he chooses, the children he fathers, he doesn't see them as family. His connection with them all is very loose. They're not much more to him than subjects in an experiment."  
>"That's so cold."<p>

"That's why I didn't want him to know anything about you. Because if the myths and rumours were true..." He gives a grim, knowing smile. "A young, human female willing to mate with a vampire." His meaning suddenly becomes very clear. And all along I'd thought he was just being a bit over-the-top about not wanting me to come along to meet Joham. A small shiver runs through me.

"But he's gone now, right? He's left town."

Edward nods. "He's gone," he says. "I've made sure." He lifts my legs and shifts us smoothly so he's lying now with his head in my lap. Grinning up at me, he takes my left hand in his. "Lets talk about something else."

"Like what?"

He strokes his thumb over my engagement ring, slowly. "Well, we have some organising to do if we're still going to have a Christmas Eve wedding."

"We do." I match his grin with one of my own.

"And I'm thinking, Bella..."

"Yes, Edward?"

"The first thing we should do is tell our families the date."

**oooo0oooo**

The next evening, the Cullens are gathered in their living room, waiting expectantly as a smiling Edward takes my hand, squares his shoulders, and says he has an announcement.

"You already know that, by some miracle, Bella has agreed to marry me..."

"Yep, that's some miracle," Emmett chuckles. Jasper smirks. Rosalie glares at her husband and Edward rolls his eyes and basically ignores his brother.

"We've decided on a date for the wedding," he says.

"Oh!" Esme cries out, beaming.

"I knew it was coming! I knew it!" Alice throws herself at me as Edward tells her to be careful and her hug is only just not painful. "I had a vision," she giggles against me. "A glimpse of a wedding. I've got so many ideas and I know you said before that you want to do things your way, and that's good, but I've been collecting bridal magazines ever since you got engaged, just in case you want some help...so, when's the big day?"

"Christmas eve," Edward says.

Alice lets go of me quickly.

"_This_ Christmas eve?" she asks, wide-eyed.

Edward nods and Alice's mouth hangs open. "I didn't see that part coming," she mutters. "You can't be serious." She shakes her head slowly and though I didn't think it was possible for a vampire to faint, Alice looks like she might come close.

"Oh, we're serious," Edward says. His smile goes up a notch.

"You can't!"

"We can."

"There's not enough time!"

"There is."

"It's less than a month away!"

"Twenty four days, Alice. Trust me, I'm counting."

It's like a tennis match. All of us watching the volley of words between Edward and his sister.

"It can't be done," Alice snaps.

"Yes it can."

"There's too much to organise! We'll never do it in time! Not properly, anyway."

"_We_?"

Alice folds her arms over her chest as she glares at her brother. Jasper comes to stand behind her. He whispers something in her ear and though I can't hear, I can see the small smirk on Edward's lips. Rose and Emmett have taken a seat on the sofa and Emmett is clearly enjoying the show. Carlisle and Esme watch on fondly as Edward lets go of my hand to tick things off on his fingers.

"We spoke to the college chaplain this morning, and he'll be performing the ceremony. We organised the licence this afternoon. The..."

"What about the venue?" Alice interrupts. "And the music? Flowers? Invitations? _The dress!_"

Edward takes my hand again and turns to Esme. He smiles, almost shyly. "We were hoping we could have it here," he says.

"Of course," she whispers, eyes shining. "Of course you'll get married here. We wouldn't have it any other way."

Edward smiles and nods his thanks, before turning to Rosalie.

"Rose? Will you play for us?"

She glances towards the piano that sits in the corner by the large windows.

"If I have to," she snarks, but her brilliant smile belies her words. Then she looks at me. "He's so much more bearable when you're around," she says. "Welcome to the family."

"Thanks, Rose." Edward smiles too, and gives her a wink. She winks back and I realise it's the first real sign of affection I've ever seen between them.

"As for everything else..." Edward returns his attention to Alice. He steps forward and kisses her cheek. "Bella and I will take care of it."

Alice scowls and pouts but even frustrated and angry, she's still beautiful. I can just imagine how she'll look as my maid of honour.

"Oh!" She turns to me, all traces of frustration gone. "Yes!" she cries and throws her arms around me again so I'm almost knocked off my feet. "I'd love to be your matron of honour."

"You saw that one, didn't you?"

"I did!" She laughs as she releases me and then I'm dragged over to the sofa to discuss dress colours and whether she should go floor length or not. Emmett stands up to make room, grinning as he does so.

"So, is Edward going to change you?" he asks.

The room falls silent and I feel six pairs of curious eyes on me. I look to Edward, wondering how much he'll say.

"We have plans," he says vaguely, smiling at me.

"What plans?" Emmett asks, and Carlisle suggests he mind his own business.

"I'm sure Edward and Bella will let us know if the time comes," he says. "Why don't we focus on the wedding for now."

The house is full of joy and laughter. Esme and Rosalie are discussing how to re-arrange the room for the big occasion and Emmett and Jasper are planning the bachelor party to end all bachelor parties. They're just like any other family with a wedding in the works. And their excitement and enthusiasm is almost exhausting...and matches my mother's.

Renee's squeal nearly burst my eardrum this afternoon when we called to tell her the date.

"I know it's short notice," I said.

"No, no, honey, the urgency just makes it more beautiful."

Edward had to leave the room so she wouldn't hear him laugh.

Charlie was different, of course. Quieter. Maybe even resigned once he got over his surprise at the short notice. He wanted to know if he should rent a black suit or a grey one.

"I should probably dress up if I'm giving the bride away," he said. He sounded a little choked up. And that made me teary. And Edward pulled me into his lap and held me while Charlie told me, gruffly, that my happiness was the most important thing to him.

"How many guests?" Esme asks, pulling me from my thoughts and smiling as she looks from me to Edward and back to me again.

"Just family," Edward says. "Us. Renee and Phil. Charlie...and he might want to bring Sue Clearwater."

I hold my breath, waiting for the reaction of Edward's family to the news of Sue. Carlisle doesn't miss a beat.

"Of course," he says, and smiles at me. "Sue is very welcome."

"Is that all?" Emmett asks.

"That's all," I say. "It's all we want."

That's not quite true. I'd like Jacob to be there, but there's not much chance of that. It's two days since Charlie called, apologising that he'd let slip to Sue, Billy and Jacob that Edward and I were engaged. He'd told me they were shocked, but he was sure they'd come round, and to expect some calls. And today, after Charlie got over the surprise of our news, he asked if I'd heard anything from La Push yet. I had to tell him no.

"Well, there's always room for more," Esme smiles. "Now, lets talk about cake."

**oooo0oooo**

Suddenly, it feels like I'm on a wedding rollercoaster. When I'm not in class or at work, I'm planning. Over the next few days we meet with the Chaplain to discuss our vows. We book accommodation for Renee and Phil. Edward spends a ridiculous amount of time on his laptop, being secretive about our honeymoon. "Pack for the sun," is all he'll tell me and I have no idea how a sunny honeymoon is going to work with Mr Sparkly. Esme asks our opinion on floral arrangements for the living room. Edward and Jasper get creative with ideas for lighting up the back garden.

On Saturday I travel to Seattle to visit bridal boutiques with Alice, and find an exquisite gown of ivory silk that fits like it was made for me. Alice smiles and claps her hands as I stand on the small round podium in the middle of the store and tell her this is the one.

"He'll love you in that," Alice says. "It's very chic. Simple classic lines." She stands back and studies me critically, frowning slightly as she twirls her finger, asking me to turn around. "That embroidery around the hem and the neckline is so delicate, just enough detail, but not too much. Yes, this is definitely you. You look beautiful."

And if I'm honest, I feel beautiful. Really beautiful. Which is surprising because I was never comfortable in dresses, but now this one is on I don't want to take it off. And I can't wait for Edward to see me in it. I turn again and look at myself from all angles in the fancy wrap-around mirrors. The silk swishes softly as I move. It's an expensive dress, but Edward's credit card is in my purse. He's told me to spare no expense. This is his gift to me. And we'll only do this once.

On Sunday, I'm doing an extra shift at The Drum while Edward is out with his brothers looking for a suit. There's a new window display that needs to be set up – Christmas Classics – and I'm blowing up one of Alison's inflatable reindeer with a foot pump when my phone rings. Sue Clearwater's name comes up on the screen. My heart starts to pound and my body tenses as I say hello, but relief washes through me when I hear her quiet congratulations.

"Thanks," I say. "I appreciate that. I know this must make things difficult for you."

"And for you, too," she says. "I think sometimes people forget that." I'm assuming by 'people', she means Jake. Probably most of La Push. "Charlie says you're happy and I think that's the best thing we can ever wish for someone. We start with that, and everything else can be worked around."

"You make it sound simple when you put it that way."

Sue sighs. "It should be simple. The problem is we don't always find our happiness where we'd expect to. Or where others might think we should."

Others. "You're talking about Jacob."

I watch my reindeer start to deflate in front of me.

"Have you heard from him?" she asks.

"No."

"Well, he's been busy," she says. Maybe he has been, but I think she's hedging. I assume busy means angry. The reindeer makes a wheezing sound and its head folds in on itself.

"Will you tell him I said hi?"

"I'll tell him," Sue says, and then we say goodbye.

I sit on a box wrapped up to look like a present and drop my head into my hands. Some holly from the bow is sticking into my backside but I don't care. Sue's reaction is a relief. _We can work around everything else_, she said. I'll take that as a good sign for things with Charlie and her. But Jacob still worries me. So I abandon the reindeer, go into the stock room, sit on an old piano stool and punch his number into my phone. My heart pounds while I listen to it ring. A moment later the phone answers, but no-one speaks.

"Jake?"

I hear him take a slow breath and I prepare myself for the angry outburst I know must be coming.

"I've been trying to think what to say to you, Bella," he says quietly. I close my eyes and my fingers tighten around the phone. "Is it true? You're really going to marry him?"

"Yes," I whisper. "I am. On Christmas eve."

There's stony silence. It drags on. I begin to wonder if he's still there.

"Jake?"

"I'm here."

"Will you say something?"

"What? Say what?"  
>I know it's the longest of long shots, but I go for it anyway. "Say you're happy for me?"<p>

"That's not going to happen." His voice is so cold. So calm. I was prepared for anger, not this cool detachment. A shiver runs along my spine.

"Weren't you going to call me? Not even to yell at me? Not even to tell me I was making a mistake?"

"Is that what you want me to tell you?"

"No! Of course not."

Silence.

"Bella, when I heard, I was going to drive over there to yell and shake some sense into you. I even had the car keys in my hand. But Beth and Sue made me stop. They told me to calm down and think first."

"And?"

He sighs. "Like I said, I've been trying to work out what to say. Not that it would make any difference, because you've made your choice. And it's not what I'd want for you. So maybe it's best to stay quiet."

"No, Jake, we can still…"

"No, we can't." He cuts me off. "We can't be friends. We can't be anything. You know that. _ You know_."

My stomach knots and my eyes burn. I do know that. I've always known. "We can't help who we love," I whisper. "You should know that, better than anyone." There's another long silence. Finally, Jacob speaks.

"I do," he says. "That's why I know there's no point in me saying anything."

Amaranthe walks through the door, takes one look at me and leaves again. I can't imagine how I must look right now.

"I'll hear about you through Charlie," Jacob says, so quietly. "But I know that one day you'll stop visiting and start making excuses for missing Christmases and birthdays, and I'll know what's happened then. And I don't want to think about that." His voice breaks. A tear slides down my cheek and I let it fall. "What I will think about, is you sitting on my garage floor, with grease on your hands, passing me the wrong tools while I rebuilt those motor bikes."

"Jacob…"

"I've got my own future to think about now, Bella. You have yours." His voice breaks again. "Just…remember the bikes."

The phone goes silent, but I keep it to my ear because I'm not ready to let him go. Jacob. He was my friend. He kept me together when my world fell apart…

The hurt washes over me and memories of those motor bikes flood my mind. It seems so long ago now. A lifetime away. I was a different person then, and so was he. And as I remember, I see the truth in what he says – our futures are taking different paths. But I wouldn't change my path for anything. Neither would he.

"I'll remember the bikes," I whisper, and finally, I let Jacob go. I put my phone away but I'm in no hurry to move. Not just yet.

As I wipe at my face the door opens slowly, and Edward appears.

"Bella?"

In a flash I'm up off the piano stool and in his arms, burying myself in his chest.

"Amaranthe called me." His voice is torn with anxiety and there's tension in his body. "What's happened? What's wrong?"

"I talked to Jacob."

"Oh." Edward's voice hardens. "What did he say? Do you want me to…"

"No, no. He just said…we said goodbye."

"Ah. I see. I'm sorry." He holds me tighter and we stand there, still and silent, just wrapped in each other. "I'm sorry," he says again, after a while.

I look up into Edward's eyes. There's so much love there. And concern. But his hair is messier than usual, like he's been frantically dragging his hands through it. He's minus his sweater and his shirt is untucked from his jeans. I tug on the hem.

"I was in a change room when Amaranthe called," he murmurs and smoothly tucks himself in. "I left in a hurry."

My heart flutters s little at the image of him dropping everything to come to me.

"You were trying on wedding suits?" He nods and I feel the beginnings of a weak smile on my lips. "Did you leave a trail of clothes behind you?"

"Just a bit." He gives me a small smile, too. "Emmett and Jasper will take care of it. I was needed elsewhere."

My heart swells now and my eyes fill again.

"Thank you," I whisper. "I love you so much."

"I love you too." Edward tucks me in close, under his chin. "Will you be alright?" he asks.

"Yeah, I will. I'll be fine." I sniff. "I'm going to remember the motor bikes."

The stock room door opens. Alison sticks her head in.

"Bella, what's going on? You're needed on the counter. Oh, Edward, you're here. I didn't know." I tell her I'll be there in a sec and she disappears quickly.

"I'd better get back to work."

I start to move, but Edward takes my hand, kisses me softly, then whispers in my ear…

"What motor bikes?"

**oooo0oooo**

By the following weekend our small wedding is all but organized. And our new bed has arrived. A special order, with extra reinforcing, and it just barely fits in the bedroom.

"It's big," I say as Edward sits on the floor, surrounded by tools, putting it together. "Enormous."

"Well, we ordered king size. And we won't always be living here." He looks up at me, smiling. "And that's something I want to talk to you about." He motions for me to sit too and when I go to sit beside him, he pulls me into his lap. "I think we should get our own place," he says and nuzzles my neck with his nose. "Somewhere without neighbours living on the other side of paper thin walls. Somewhere with better heating and a bath for you to soak in, not just a shower. Somewhere with a study for you to work in, and read in. A garage for the cars. An open fire place…"

"I've always liked open fire places."

"I know. And there'd be a huge bedroom for the enormous bed." His smile warms. "A library for our books."

I glance at the dresser, piled high with books, my course texts mixed with some recreational reading. There's another, similar, pile on the nightstand that's been pushed into a corner, but those are Edward's. My bookmark protrudes from the pages of one.

My eyes come back to Edward.

"Sounds like you've got something in mind."

He seems nervous now. His face is serious. "I do," he says and pulls a real estate flyer from the back pocket of his jeans. But he doesn't hand it to me. Instead it drops to the floor and suddenly I'm on my feet, by the wall, and Edward is in a crouch in front of me. My head spins and my heart races and I look around for…I don't know what.  
>"What? What's happening?"<p>

Edward straightens and the horror on his face sends my heart into free fall.

"Dear God, no," he mutters and moves quickly to the front door. "It's Jacob."

"Jake?" Has he come to yell at me after all? My legs feel shaky as I follow Edward into the living room. "But we said goodbye."

"He hasn't come to see you," Edward says. "He's come to see me." He closes his eyes and rubs his hands over his face. "This isn't about us. This is about someone from the tribe. Kim."

"Kim? Jared's girlfriend?"

Edward opens the door and Jacob is there.

I can't believe the change in my friend. It's like he's aged a thousand years. His six foot seven frame seems shrunken; his shoulders hang, defeated. But it's his eyes that really shock me - haunted and hollow and full of pain. But when he sees Edward his face hardens and his fists clench at his sides. He stands to his full height and now his eyes flare with anger. His body starts to tremble, like he's about to shift into wolf form. I call his name but he doesn't even look at me. Edward blocks his way.

"Jacob, I'll help anyway I can, but I can't let you in until you calm down." He throws me a quick glance over his shoulder.

Jake shoots me a fleeting look, then turns back to Edward.

"Jacob…" he warns.

Suddenly Jake takes a breath. He shuts his eyes, opens his fists, and exhales sharply.

"Have you been in my head, Cullen? Did you get it all?"

"I got it all," Edward says. "And I'm sorry Jacob."

"We don't want sorry," he snaps, and then his whole body seems to sag. He rubs his hands over his face, like Edward did just a few moments ago. "How fucked up is this, that _you _turn out to be the only person we need right now."

Edward says nothing, but steps aside and Jacob comes into my living room.

"Bella," he says, barely glancing at me.

"Jake…" Confused and frightened, I look from him to Edward. "What's happened?"

Jacob shakes his head. He opens his mouth but can't seem to form the words. His fists tense again. Edward angles his body in front of mine.

"There was a vampire in La Push last week," Edward says to me, but his eyes are on Jake. "The pack attacked and killed him, but not before Kim was bitten."

I hear all the words, I know what they mean, but it's as if I can't absorb them. Like they've skimmed the surface of my understanding without sinking in.

"Bitten?" I look from Edward to Jacob.

"Bitten," Jacob glares at me. "She's a…she's like him." He jerks his head towards Edward.

"Oh." Still, the words just swim on the surface. I can't take this in, but deep in a corner of my mind a connection starts to form. "Joham," I whisper.

"Not quite," Edward says. "From what I see in Jacob's thoughts, it's Cornelius."

My legs buckle and Edward comes to me, scoops me into his arms and sits with me on his lap on the sofa. The room spins. Everything feels unreal, it's like I'm watching a movie, watching this all happen from the outside.

"Where is Kim now?" Edward asks, voice urgent.

Jake's watching us closely as he lowers himself into the rocking chair. The wood groans and creaks under the weight of him and the sound fills the room. "There's an old cabin, up near the border. Leah and Paul and Jared are with her. I was there too, until today. We decided this morning that…" he scrunches up his face like he's in pain. "That we need help. She's had three days of, I don't know what you'd call it, agony doesn't seem strong enough, but now she's like an animal. She's wild and it takes all of us, in wolf form, to keep her in the cabin." The defeated look is back in his eyes. "But sometimes she just cries."

"She's thirsty," Edward says. "She needs to hunt."

"We've been shooting deer and bringing them to her." Jakes says. "We figured if animal blood worked for you, then it should work for her. But it's not."

"It's not the same," Edward says. He glances at me before turning back to Jake. "It's not just the blood she needs. The hunt is crucial. . She has to stalk her prey and chase it to bring it down. You can't just bring it her. She has instincts that need to be met. She has to feel the pulse of the animal as she bites. The adrenalin released during the chase makes the blood richer, sweeter, and she needs that too. Feeding from a carcass will barely quench her thirst." He pauses. "Right now she's terrified and confused. All her senses are in overload. And all of that, combined with her thirst, is making her uncontrollable."

Jake's face is a mask of revulsion. I know I should be feeling something, but I don't. I can't. It's like everything is washing over me, leaving me untouched. For some reason, my real focus is on Jake's untied shoelaces. One of them curves onto the floor in an almost perfect S. Edward grabs the blanket from the arm of the sofa and tucks it around me. It's only now I realise that I'm trembling.

"Does she remember Jared?" Edward asks.

Jacob nods. "She remembers all of us. But when she sees Jared, that's when she cries. And he cries too." For a moment I think Jake is going to cry. He leans forward, bracing his arms on his knees. "So what do we do? Let her loose in the woods to hunt? How do we know she won't head for the first human she smells?" He grimaces again. "This is killing Jared," he says. "It's killing all of us."

Edward takes his phone from his pocket and his thumb is a blur as it moves over the tiny keyboard. "Jasper and I will come," he says. "I can get inside her mind, Jasper will help with moderating her mood. The first step is to take her hunting, and then we can go from there." He puts the phone away. "We'll also set up signs of a fatal animal attack, that's probably the best cover story."

"Fake her death?" Jake is appalled. "That's cruel."

"It might seem cruel, but this way her family and friends will have closure. Trust me, it would be more cruel to let them think she might walk back through the door one day. But if you have an alternative…"

Jake shakes his head. "No," he says. "I got nothing." He rakes his hands through his hair. "What happens now?"

"You go back to La Push and I'll follow shortly with Jasper." He hesitates. "I'm assuming we'll be allowed across the treaty line."

"Yeah," Jake scrubs his hand over his head. "This kind of changes things. It changes a lot of things." He stands. "I suppose I should thank you," he says stiffly.

Edward nods and eases me onto the sofa as he stands too.

Jacob looks at me and I don't know what to say. I open my mouth, fumbling for words. "I'm so sorry," is all I can manage. His face crumples.

"So am I," he says, and then he's gone.

Edward brings me a glass of water and crouches down in front of me.

"Are you alright?"

"I…think I'm in shock. Am I in shock?"

Edward nods slowly and pulls me into his arms. "I don't want to leave you," he says. "But I have to go."

"I know."

"And I'll be gone for a while. A few weeks at the very least."

"A few weeks." I echo his words and they sound hollow on my tongue, like they have no meaning. He could have said a few minutes, or a few years, it all means the same.

Edward's phone rings. He speaks quickly, at vampire speed, so I barely catch a word.

"Emmett and Rosalie are coming to La Push too," he says when he hangs up. "And Alice is on her way here. She'll stay with you."

"Okay."

He touches my cheek, then stands and disappears into the bedroom. I sit and stare at the stain on the rug. When he comes back and I see the car keys in his hand, that's when everything hits me. Hard.

"Oh my god," I gasp. I stand up quickly and the blanket falls to the floor. "This is our fault. This is all our fault!"

"Bella?" Edward's face is concerned as he comes towards me. "It's not…"

"Yes it is! Joham and his evil sidekicks came here because of us, because of _us_, and now…"

"No," Edward crosses the room quickly and takes me in his arms. "You can't think that."

"But it's true!" I yell at him. "You know it's true. And now Kim…" A sob catches in my throat and I fight my way out of Edward's arms, pummeling my fists against his chest. "If we hadn't…"

"Bella!"

"If we hadn't wanted to know about those myths…"

"Not you! Me!" Edward raises his voice. "Me! Joham came to talk to me. Carlisle had been tracking him down before you and I were even back together, you know that."

My tears start flowing. Edward pulls me into his arms again and now I sob against his chest. He's right, I know. And Joham had known about La Push before he even got here.

"I'm sorry," I mumble.

"You've had a shock."

A huge shock. I think of Kim, and how she and Jared were laughing and so in love at Thanksgiving.

"What do you think will happen? The wolves won't abandon her?"

"There's no sign of that," says Edward. "Like Jacob said, this changes a lot of things. And from what I saw in his thoughts, Jared's imprint still stands. He still loves her." Edward strokes his hand along my back. It's soothing.

"So, you'll go to La Push?"

"I have to," he says. "Kim can't go through this alone." I feel his body tense slightly. "I'm sorry about the wedding."

"We'll find a new date," I say.

"We will. I promise." Edward tucks me under his chin. "Charlie will probably be asking questions soon. People will wonder where Kim has gone."  
>I lift my eyes to Edward's. "I'll have to lie, won't I?"<p>

"Yes."

"I can't," I whisper. "I'll never be able to keep it up."

"You'll have to, Bella. And if there's a memorial service, you'll have to go."

"I couldn't."

"You'd be expected to go and it would be strange if you didn't. You have to keep up appearances. That's your first priority."

The thought of it is too much, and my tears start again.

"I can't. I can't do this."

"Yes. You have to." His voice is firmer now. "This is part of it, keeping up appearances. This is part of my world, part of the world you want to belong to. And this won't be the last lie you tell. This won't be the last faked death. And next time it mightn't be some random vampire that we're cleaning up after. It might be one of us, one of my family. And if you change, it could be you."

"No." I back away from him, shaking my head.

"I'll do everything in my power to make sure that doesn't happen, but there can be no guarantees. Not with a vampire."

I don't want to hear this. I screw my eyes shut as if that will make everything stop and the last half hour will go away.

"And if we have a child, Bella, they'll have to learn to lie, too." Edward's voice is low and soft now. And sad. "We've been planning a wedding and ordering flowers and talking about a future, but part of that future will always involve death, and lies, and having to move at a moment's notice because someone has slipped up."

"Why are you saying all this? Why?"

"Because you need to hear it. You've talked about the bubble we used to live in back in Forks? Well, we're really out of the bubble now, Bella. This is my reality." He takes me in his arms again. "I love you," he says and his voice breaks a little. "I love you more than my own life, but you need to be sure this is the life you want." I cling to him, burying my face in his chest. "And if you change your mind, I'll understand." I feel his lips in my hair. "Whatever you decide, Bella, I will always love you."

His phone beeps and I know he has to go. He kisses me, hard, like his life depends on it, and then he's walking out the door and I'm alone.

I don't know what to feel. I'm not sure I even really know what's happened here in my small apartment this afternoon. It's like my life has taken a different direction and left me behind. Like my heart and mind can't keep up with what's just happened.

I walk back into the bedroom on shaky legs, and see that Edward's assembled the bed. He must have done that when he came in to get his keys.

"Vampire speed," I mutter and run my fingers over a glossy wooden bed post.

The nightstand is back in place too. Edward's books are neatly stacked. I run my fingers down their spines, and my tears fall again when I see that my bookmark is gone.

oo0oo

**A/N: Thank you all so much for your patience while waiting for this chapter.**

**And thank you to Melanie, my friend and beta, who read through this chapter during a tornado warning and sent me an email saying she might lose power and have to go to the safe room at any moment. What a woman, what a beta. Big hugs Melanie, thank you! And if you haven't read her stories on here, you should check them out. She's Edward'sEternal and she's brilliant J**

**There is one more chapter of The Keepsake, and after that an epilogue. **

**If you'd like to know what I've been up to with my original fiction, you can check out my website. FF won't allow web addresses in the author notes, but it's the usual www and then my author name, suzannecarroll, and then dot and com. Or you can check out my Facebook page where I'm Suzanne Carroll, Writer. **

**Thanks again to everyone who's still with me on this journey. Thank you for reading and reviewing and for all your support, it's appreciated more than I can say J**


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaiamer: All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**QUICK RECAP: Edward and Bella are planning their wedding, talking about a house and children, when Jake turns up to say Kim has been bitten by a vampire and has been changed. The wolves need Edward's help and he and his siblings have gone to La Push. Alice stays behind with Bella.**

**Now, what happens next….this is a loooong chapter, you might want to get a cup of tea. Or a glass of wine. Whichever takes your fancy :)**

#######################################

"Bella?"

Alice appears in the doorway as I stare at Edward's books on the nightstand. She seems hesitant, wary. "Are you alright?" she asks.

I shrug as the tears roll slowly down my face. "I don't know."

Suddenly I'm embraced by two cold arms and Alice's voice whispers in my ear. "Everything will be okay, it really will. I promise." She hands me a tissue from the box on the dresser and I wipe my eyes.

"What happened, Alice? An hour ago we were putting the bed together, talking about houses and fireplaces and now he's gone…and Kim…oh God…"

"Shh, Shh." Alice makes crooning sounds and hugs me again, rocking me gently; my head rests on her stony shoulder.

"Where is he now?" I ask. "Has he left town yet?"

"Edward and Jasper, Emmett and Rose, they're all on the road. With Edward driving they'll be in La Push soon."

I sniff and wipe my eyes again. "What will happen to Kim?" My heart twists and breaks for her as I think of what she will be going through, and what lies ahead. The tears come again.

"Come on," Alice says and leads me gently into the living room. She brings the tissue box with her and we curl up on the sofa. "Kim will get through this. Things will be rough for a while, but it's not the end, you know that."

"I know."

Alice strokes my hair. "She'll get through it and she'll make a new life." Her hand stills and she sighs. "She has no other choice."

"But that's the point." My voice wavers and cracks. "It wasn't her choice. It's not the life she wanted. And what about Jared? They were going to get married, and…and…"

"It wasn't a choice for any of us, Bella." Alice says quietly, and there's something in her voice I can't quite place.

She passes me a fresh tissue from the box. "Blow," she says and I obey as she continues. "Kim will have all the support we can give her and the sooner we can get to her the better things will be. Edward and Jasper will take her hunting, Emmett and Rosalie too. They'll teach her to channel her new instincts. She'll come through this okay, and from what Edward's said, her bond with Jared doesn't seem to have been broken. They'll find a way if it's what they want. You and Edward did. Now, do you want me to make tea?"

I look at her through blurry, tear-filled eyes. "Wh…what?"

"Tea," she says. "Would you like some?"

"Um…" I shut my eyes and try to make sense. "Why do people always want to make tea when something goes wrong? Like it's going to solve everything? Because right now, it's going to take a lot more than pouring boiling water over dried leaves to make things better, Alice."

"I think it's probably a distraction," Alice says, frowning, clearly puzzling over my question. "And it's something familiar and normal you can hang onto when everything else around you is crazy."

"Everything is definitely crazy right now." I let go a heavy sigh. "Actually, maybe I do want tea."

My decision seems to make Alice happy, so she goes to the kitchen and fills the kettle. I hug my knees to my chest and watch as she searches for cups. Her phone beeps just as the kettle whistles, and my heart skips.

"Edward?"

"Carlisle," she says, looking at the screen. "Checking up on you." She starts typing a message.

"What are you telling him?"

She smiles. "That you're having a cup of tea."

oo

Alice is right. Holding the warm cup in my hands feels good. It feels safe and steady and normal. And comforting. I feel like I can think now. Or maybe it's just the shock wearing off. I take a welcome sip of the hot liquid as she curls up beside me again.

"What happens next?" I ask, and though my mind is a bit clearer, my voice is still shaky. "What happens now?"

"Well, the plan is for Edward and Jasper to go to the cabin where Kim is. Rose and Emmett will set the scene outside La Push to look like an animal attack and then they'll join the others at the cabin. Drink your tea." She nods at my cup. "Edward will be able to get inside her head. Jasper will be able to monitor her mood. Emmett will be extra muscle because a newborn is incredibly strong."

"What about Rosalie? Is she extra muscle, too?" I can't imagine she'd like to be described that way.

"Partly. But mostly she'll just be there for Kim. She'll be another female vampire, someone who can understand a woman's perspective. And Rosalie can be very understanding and sympathetic when she needs to be."

"She's never struck me as the type."

Alice smiles softly. "There's more to Rose than meets the eye. Tea." She nods again at my cup and I sip obediently.

"What sort of animal attack?"

"Probably a mountain lion; they don't hibernate and they use winter to hunt so it's plausible that there could be one roaming around, travelling further afield looking for food." Alice's phone beeps again and she reads from the screen. "It's Jasper. They've arrived," she says. "They've suggested to Sam that Kim be reported as a missing person to the police." She looks up at me, warily.

"Report to Charlie, you mean?"

Alice nods. My already battered heart, crumbles.

"Edward said Charlie would be asking questions soon," I whisper. Suddenly the tea isn't so comforting anymore. I set the cup down on the coffee table. "He'll probably call me to ask if I've heard from Kim, right?"

"Probably, yes," Alice says.

I rub my hands over my face. This is what Edward was getting at. "Why does there have to be a missing person report?" My tears start again. Alice waves the tissue box under my nose.

"Because everything has to be official and above board and accounted for," she says gently. "The missing person report is filed. There's a search party. The evidence is found. An animal attack is proved. The case is closed." She reaches out to stroke my hair. "Every loose end has to be tied up. There can't be any room for suspicion."

"It seems so clinical. So cold."

"I know," Alice sighs.

"What about her parents?" I wipe at my eyes again. "Will they know the truth?"

"No." Alice shakes her head. "They can't."

Of course I know this. And it seems so long ago, but I remember a time when even Jake didn't know the truth. He used to think the legends of vampires and werewolves were just scary stories. I remember how he hated Sam and his gang of 'tough guys'. And I remember something else. Something Sam told me once— the pack is part of the tribe, but not everyone in the tribe is a member of the pack. And apart from the pack and their partners, only members of the council are in on the secret. Most of the La Push population is completely unaware that werewolves, and sometimes vampires, walk amongst them.

"Edward said that it's kinder to fake Kim's death than to let her family hope she might walk through the door one day."

"He's right," says Alice. "It would be worse to leave them always wondering. And hoping." She takes my hand and squeezes it gently. "Are you hungry? I could order take-out?"

"No. Not hungry." I lie down on the sofa. Suddenly I'm so tired. I just want to sleep and when I wake up, discover none of this has happened. Edward will be beside me, telling me more about the house he wants for us. Telling me his plans.

"I'll have to cancel the chaplain," I whisper. "And the flowers."

"Esme and I can take care of that."

"And I'll have to tell my parents the wedding is off."

"That can wait for a day or two." There's something in Alice's voice that makes me look up.

"What?"

She smiles sadly. "You'll need to tell them a reason. Kim's disappearance would make the most sense." I don't understand, and Alice takes my hand again as she explains. "Wait until a bit more information has come through from Charlie, then you say that out of respect for your friend, you'll delay your celebrations."

"Oh…"

I nod dumbly. I guess that makes sense, if anything can make sense right now. I look out the window. The view is the same as it always is, but everything's different. "We were so happy," I whisper. "Edward was so happy. Last night he was teasing me about his suit. He said it was powder blue, with velvet lapels. Tomorrow we were supposed to go shopping for wedding rings." I was planning to have Forever engraved in his.

I'm surprised when a sudden, burning flash of anger spikes through me. I sit up quickly. The tissue box tumbles to the floor and I glare at Alice. "Why did he have to go? Why did it have to be him? Couldn't Emmett and Jasper do this? Carlisle?"

"Bella..." Alice reaches out to me, but I'm on a roll and pull back from her.

"After everything Edward's been through, our break-up, losing his memory, is it really too much to ask that he gets a happy ending? Is it? I mean, you and Jasper got it. Rose and Emmett…"

Alice shakes her head, reaching for me again, but I stand and start pacing as my anger lets loose. I'm yelling now, but I don't care.

"Carlisle and Esme. Everyone gets happily ever after except Edward. And just when it looks like he's getting his turn…"

"Bella…"

"When does he get what he wants, Alice? When does he get his turn? Because if anyone deserves to be happy, it's Edward!" I'm crying again, but this time they're angry tears. Alice grabs for the tissue box. "No!" I yell, and she pulls her hand back quickly. "I don't need tissues and I don't need fucking tea!"

What I do need, is to throw something. My sneakers are on the floor where I kicked them off earlier. I pick one up and throw it at the door. Hard. But with all my effort it only makes a dull, unsatisfying thud. I swear again, under my breath this time, as I sink to the floor.

"I want the happy ending too," I whisper and my burning anger is overcome now by heart-crushing sadness and disappointment. "I've been counting down the days to Christmas eve and we were so close, so close. And I thought, after everything, we were actually going to get there." I look up at Alice. "I wanted to marry him."

"I know," Alice says, and immediately joins me on the floor. "I know you do, and you will." She takes my hand. "Bella, I saw what the last couple of years did to Edward and believe me, I know he deserves to be happy, you both do, but you have to understand, we have a responsibility here."

"What responsibility?" I snap. "To who?"

"Everyone."

"That doesn't make sense."

Alice frowns, like she's trying to get the words straight. "A newborn vampire is dangerous, Bella. A newborn vampire without guidance is catastrophic. With her thirst and strength, Kim could slaughter all of La Push, and Forks, in an afternoon. The wolves have been able to hold her so far, but just barely. They won't be able to hold her much longer. Not without help."

"But Kim wouldn't… she'd never…"

"She would. In a human heartbeat. Without a second thought."

It's a shocking picture that Alice paints, one that I don't want to think about. I crawl back onto the sofa and lie there, eyes closed, shaking my head as she continues.

"It would be wrong, and incredibly irresponsible of us to leave Kim alone, and Edward's gift means that he's the best one to help her. He and Jasper." She comes and gently brushes my hair back from my face. "Kim's been without help for too long already."

A bone-deep weariness creeps through me. I don't think I have the strength even to think right now. I sink deeper into the sofa. There's silence between us, but Alice stays close, sitting on the floor, stroking my arm while I stare at that hole in the carpet.

I remember the last two summers and all the time I spent at La Push. Swimming, bonfires, movie nights, riding motorbikes. Kim was a big part of all that. I have a photo of her, Beth and I, all holding hands, laughing and jumping off rocks into shallow water at the beach. Jared had taken the snap. It was our version of the wolves cliff diving. That had been the weekend they'd announced their engagement.

Kim had been planning a wedding, too.

"Can you see anything?" I ask Alice after a while. "You know, visions?"

"Nothing." She frowns.

"Is that bad?"

"I don't think so. Your future kept disappearing all the time after we left Forks, and you told me you spent a lot of time at La Push then; I've started to think it's something to do with the wolves."

"They interfere with your radar?"

"Maybe." She rubs at her temples, still frowning. "It's very unsettling."

"So you won't know if Edward's in danger? Or any of them?"

"They'll be fine," Alice quickly soothes. "They know what they're doing."

I feel the start of a headache at the base of my skull.

"He said he'll be gone for weeks," I murmur.

"And then he'll come home to you."

"He took my bookmark." My voice breaks. "He thinks I might leave him."

"No," Alice shakes her head. "Why do you say that?"

"Because he told me I really have to think about what I'm getting myself into. And that he'll always love me, whatever I decide." Fresh tears roll down my cheeks. "He thinks this will be too much for me and I'll leave."

"Or maybe he just wanted a part of you with him while he was away."

"Maybe." But somehow I don't think that's all it was. I sniff and reach for the tissue box on the floor.

"But he's right," Alice says. "You do really have to think if this is what you want." She smiles at me sadly. "Because this won't be the last time something like this happens."

"I know," I whisper. "Edward made that very, very clear."

####

Alice fusses in the kitchen, making macaroni cheese I think, while I stay on the sofa, staring. I've moved on from the hole in the carpet and am focused now at a chip in the paint on the wall. My brain has slipped into neutral, I have no thoughts. But when my phone buzzes and vibrates across the coffee table I spring for it like a cat pouncing.

"Edward…"

Alice makes herself scarce, disappearing out into the hall.

"Bella." I can hear the relief in his voice. "Are you all right?"

"Yes. Missing you. I…are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I miss you too." He pauses. "We're about to head for the cabin now. I'll be out of phone range soon."

"Oh…"

"Bella, I can't tell you how sorry I am."

"No, no, I get it. Responsibility, right?"

He sighs, heavily. "Right."

There's silence between us now and I wonder if he can hear me trying not to cry.

"Alice is with you?" he asks after a moment.

"Yeah, she's here." I try to make my voice sound lighter. "She's trying to make dinner."

"Don't let her make macaroni cheese," he says, and I can hear he's trying too. "She'll over-cook it until it's macaroni sludge."

At last, I manage to crack a smile. The first one in what feels like years. "Okay, but I think she's already started."

"That's too bad."

"Maybe I could feed it to Mrs Upshot's cat when Alice isn't looking?"

"No, that would be animal cruelty."

I chuckle softly, and so does Edward. Fragile laughs that fade quickly.

"I love you, Bella."

"I love you, too."

He sighs again, and I can imagine him pulling his hand through his hair. "I have to go but I'll call again when I can. I'm not sure when that will be, though. It'll depend on a lot of things."

As he starts his goodbye I can feel the burn of approaching panic. I remember Carlisle's words about Edward and the newborn that almost killed him. My knuckles turn white as I grip the phone.

"Edward, be careful. Please. I want you to come home to me."

"I will," he says gently. "I promise. I'll come home."

####

I fall asleep on the sofa and don't wake until seven the next morning. But it's not my alarm that drags me from sleep, it's my phone.

"Oh, fuck, it's Charlie."

Alice is immediately by my side, nodding slowly, encouragingly.

"What do I do?"

"You answer," she says.

So I do.

"Dad? Hi." Alice is making lots of hand gestures.

"Ask why he's calling," she mouths silently. "It's early. And unexpected."

I scratch my hand over my hand and try to think. "Um, so, why the early call? Everything all right?"

Alice is nodding again as Charlie tells me that Kim has been reported missing.

"Have you heard from her, Bells? Heard anything at all?" The worry in his voice is heartbreaking. He's known Kim since she was a baby.

"Er, no. I've not talked to her since Thanksgiving." Alice is miming again, telling me to ask more questions.

"Oh. And, um…that's…" My mind has gone blank. What do I say? What would I say if this was all news to me. "Um, where was she last seen?" I wince. That sounded like something out of an episode of CSI. "I mean, what happened?"

I scrunch my eyes closed and grip the phone tightly as I listen to Charlie's weary voice. "Her car broke down on one of the back roads behind the Res. We've found the car, but not her."

Charlie's voice is thick. I feel like I'm going to be sick. I'm shaking so much the phone is vibrating against my ear. Alice takes it from me, hits the speaker button, and places it on the coffee table.

"She's…um…she's probably… oh, Dad I don't know what to say." I take a huge gulp of air and try not to cry. "I really don't know what to say." I can't do this.

Alice is watching me carefully as she grabs some paper from the kitchen and starts writing.

"Well, we're doing everything we can to find her," Charlie says. "There's a search party organized; they're going out in about an hour."

Alice shoves the paper in front of me. It's a script.

"Um…is there anything I can do, Dad?" Shit, of course I should ask that. My mind is such chaos right now.

"No," Charlie sighs. "But thanks."

I read the next line. "How's Jared?" Why didn't I think to ask that myself? Oh, that's right, because I already know how he is. Already the lies are tripping me up. I look at Alice. She's nodding again as Charlie answers.

"He's pretty broken up from what Sam tells me. But I haven't seen him yet; I'll talk to him later this morning. I'll talk to her parents, too." He pauses. "But we're hoping we'll hear from Kim before then."

I bite hard into my lip and shut my eyes again. I open them when I hear Alice rattling the paper in front of me. My eyes blur with tears and I blink hard to focus on what she's written.

"Um...I know…I know you'll do everything you can, Dad. Let me know as soon as you hear anything. And if there's anything I can do…" I sound like a robot.

"Thanks Bells. I'll let you know. "

"And Dad…" I screw up the paper and drop it on the floor. I'm using my own words now. "Please tell Jared everything will be okay. And that I'm so sorry."

"Well, let's not be sorry yet, Bells. But I'll tell him you're thinking of him."

#####

My life is a blur. At first I think there is no way I can go to class, but by eight o'clock I know there is no way I can stay in the apartment, staring at the walls and the floor. So I go to school, but I'm on auto-pilot. Classes. Conversation. Smiling. Saying the right things in the right places. All the time my hand is wrapped around the phone in my pocket.

And all the time, I'm thinking. Like Edward asked me to do. Like I need to do.

From school I go to The Drum, where I arrange a pile of Christmas CD's on the counter and get caught up in Alison's plans for the store's festive decorations. She wants a silver, purple and turquoise theme.

"To be different," she says. "It'll grab people's attention when they walk past the window."

But Scott disagrees. "Nah. People don't like it when you mess with tradition. Stick with red and green."

"What about all white?" Amaranthe suggests. "Just, everything, stark, stark white."

Alison wrinkles her nose very subtly. "Um…interesting. What do you think, Bella? Which theme do you like?"

Why did she ask me? How can I even think of Christmas decorations right now? Doesn't she realise my world feels like it's falling apart? Of course she doesn't. No-one does. Life goes on around me like nothing's happened. And Alison is staring, waiting for an answer.

"Um, red and green is good."

"Yes!" Scott punches the air. "Two for red and green. That's a majority." Amaranthe shrugs and Alison rolls her eyes.

"We weren't actually taking a vote, Scott," she says.

"But I thought we lived in a democracy?"

"Nope," she says, brusquely. "Not in this store we don't."

A customer approaches the counter and I'm glad to get away from the ensuing debate. The store gets busy and I'm glad for some distraction. But when a woman comes through the door pushing a stroller my thoughts go straight back to Edward telling me we can have a family of our own. And as I look at the little boy, holding his rubber truck and grinning up at his mother, I wonder again if I could bring a child into a life of lies and secrets. Could I bring a child into the Cullens' world? Should I? Would it be fair? But I get nowhere with that question, and then my thoughts scatter when the lady with the toddler asks if we stock Wiggly Wiggly Christmas.

Alice is waiting for me when I get home.

"We've heard from Emmett," she says. "The police found the scene he and Rose set up."

"Already?" My heart sinks and I drop onto the sofa. "That was fast."

"It's not good for these things to drag on," she answers and I'm guessing Emmett and Rose somehow ensured the speedy discovery.

"What happens now?"

"The forensic team has moved in."

A cold shiver runs through me. "So I'll probably hear from Charlie again soon."

"And you'll have to be ready for that."

I wouldn't think it possible for my heart to sink any further, but it does. I dump my bag, kick off my shoes, and let the waiting begin.

The night drags on. Alice offers to stay again and I welcome the company, though we talk little. I'm not up to conversation and I'm grateful that she understands that. She sits at one end of the sofa, reading Marie Claire and Vogue, while I try to lose myself in a book. Any book. We play cards and I'm sure she lets me win. We've moved on to Scrabble when the call comes, close to midnight.

"I know it's late Bells, but I thought you'd want to know." My body shakes as Charlie tells me that all available evidence points to Kim being taken by a mountain lion. Even though I knew the words were coming, they're still a shock when I hear them. I can't even imagine how they would sound to Kim's family and friends. "Seems like she left the car after it broke down and she was planning to walk home," Charlie says. "There's an old shortcut through the woods and…I'm sorry, Bells." The waver in his voice and his concern for me makes things worse. I start to cry and Alice takes the phone. She speaks to Charlie while I slump into the corner of the sofa.

"He's glad you have someone with you," she says when the call is over. "And he says there'll be a memorial service. He'll let you know the details when he has them."

A dart of white hot panic shoots through me and I remember Edward saying there would probably be a service.

I look up at Alice. "I can't go," I say. "I can't go and lie to a grieving family. Or my dad." "You've lied to Charlie before," she says, very matter-of-factly. "Remember James?"

"That's not like this." I sit up quickly. "When I lied about James and going back to Phoenix that was about keeping Charlie safe. And okay, I never told him the truth about Edward, but this is completely different. And what about Kim's parents?"

"You'll tell them you're sorry for their loss," she says, gentler now. "It won't be a lie." She reaches out and strokes my hair.

"I can't," I whisper. "I can't." My tears start again.

"You can and you will." Alice cocks her head. "You play your role first, Bella, and then you can do what you want second. Part of being a Cullen is being meticulously responsible. Remember that."

Her words hit me hard. A long silence follows and for some reason I find myself wishing that it was last Thursday, when we pushed back the sofa and Edward taught me to jitterbug. He'd spun me around and lifted me over his head so I felt like I was flying.

"All this…this sadness and pain..." I murmur after a while. "All this grief. All the lies."

"I know," Alice whispers. "I know."

"Does it ever get easier?"

"It's something we accept," she says. "It's part of our world and part of who we are."

Edward's words ring in my ears…This won't be the last time.

"But it won't always be about training a newborn vampire, will it?" "No. It won't."

I sniff and curl my legs beneath me.

"Tell me how it works, Alice. What do you do when one of you…you know?" I can't even say it.

She blinks at me, and I think she's weighing up exactly how much to reveal.

"Well, we have a set routine for when someone slips up. To make the death look like an accident."

"Like with Kim?"

She nods and gets up. She goes to the kitchen and starts making me a cup of tea, even though I've not asked for one and she hasn't actually offered. I begin to wonder if the tea-making is actually to comfort her, as much as me. "We always clean up after ourselves," she says, filling the kettle. "And there always has to be a solid story set in place. It could be an animal attack. Or a fire. Bad car accident. Something that makes the real cause of death impossible to determine. Carlisle, Edward and Rose all have medical degrees. They know how to make it look real so a coroner would never be suspicious."

She reaches for the tea bags while my stomach churns.

"And if for some reason we can't set up an accidental death, we fake a disappearance, but that's a last resort." She looks up at me. "Like I said before, we don't like to leave people with false hope."

I suppose that's something. "What do you do with the, um…"

"A burial. Somewhere that won't be found. Carlisle always says a few words over the grave." She speaks softly, looking down. A shiver ripples along my spine. This is the reality of being a Cullen, when the manners and the clothes are stripped away.

"And then you move away?" I ask.

"It depends." She gets a cup down from the shelf. "It can look far more suspicious if we suddenly leave town at the same time that a human goes missing. And then there are times when we have to get out quickly, so we board up the house and just go. It all depends on the circumstances." She puts a teabag in the cup. "We can be packed and gone in less than an hour and leave the locals wondering if we'd ever really been there. But sometimes it's safer to stay around for a while, act like normal, and then a few weeks later Carlisle gets a transfer to another hospital and we move."

Act like normal. Seriously? "So you'd go to school and pretend…"

"Pretend to be shocked and stunned like everyone else in town. Yes."

The kettle whistles and Alice pours. Steam rises from the cup as she goes to the fridge for milk; moving around the kitchen so normally, making a cup of tea while she tells me how she and her family dispose of bodies.

"So, then you move later?"

She nods.

"Where do you go?"

She shrugs, adds sugar and milk and jiggles the teabag a little too vigorously. "We have several homes. But usually we just disappear, maybe to Alaska, and emerge a while later to start again somewhere else, far away from the last place." She tosses the tea bag in the trash and grabs a spoon. "Do you think it matters if the tea is stirred clockwise or counter clockwise?"

"Er, no. Not really."

She nods, stirs, and then brings me the cup. "Careful, it's hot," she says as I take it from her. Then she sits in the rocking chair. "It doesn't happen often," she says, quietly.

"But it does happen." "Yes."

I sigh and take a deep sip, barely noticing how hot the liquid is. "And one day, it could be me you're covering for."

"Yes."

I close my eyes as my stomach knots. "When was the last time…" I don't finish my sentence, but Alice understands.

"1990," she says and I'm kind of surprised. My eyes pop open. It's more recent than I'd thought. Alice doesn't say which Cullen it was, and I don't want to ask, but I'm assuming it was Jasper. "There were a lot of moves in the 1950s," she goes on, sighing heavily. "That's when Jasper and I joined the family. He's always struggled the most. Before that I know there were a few moves in the late 1930s. That was down to Emmett's early days. In the 20s there were a few slips by Esme. And there was Edward of course. Though his was a conscious decision and he moved away to be on his own."

"It was also a conscious decision for him to stop and come home again." "It was," Alice smiles.

"What about Rosalie? Edward said once that she'd never tasted human blood."

"We've only had to move for Rosalie once. But her story is different."

Alice says nothing more and though her comment makes me curious, I don't push.

"Um, what about you?" I ask.

She grimaces and gives an apologetic shrug. "I wish I could answer differently, but in my early years there were times when I wasn't able to resist, either. But you must have known that."

I nod slowly. Of course I did. I knew, that apart from Rosalie, Carlisle was the only other member of the family who hadn't tasted human blood. But still, to hear Alice confirm it, sends a new chill up my spine.

I set the cup down on the arm of the sofa and hug my knees. Lots to think about. Alice leaves me to my silence. She picks up the copy of Vogue that sits on the coffee table and starts flicking through. She seems so human, licking her fingers to turn the pages. I think if Edward had told me the things she just had, if it was Edward who had just made me confront these truths, I don't think it would have seemed so chilling. But to hear it come from sweet little Alice, my fashion-conscious almost-sister who giggles and laughs and hugs…

But then I remember that night in Emmett's Jeep when we were running away from James and Victoria. How Edward had asked Alice if she could handle looking after me in Phoenix and she'd pulled back her lips in a horrific grimace and let loose with a guttural snarl that had me cowering in terror. That was the same day she'd jokingly asked Edward if he would share me for lunch. And I also remember how she skipped the blood typing class to avoid temptation.

The fact is, I've always known the truth. I just haven't always let myself see it. Not clearly, anyway. Not like now, as I let Alice's words really sink in. It's like lifting a veil that previously I've only peeked behind. I know what vampires do, what they're capable of. James' scar on my wrist is proof of that. But I've always seen the Cullens as different from James, though I realise now their instincts and urges are just the same. It's the Cullens' choice not to give in to those instincts that makes them different.

Alice looks up and finds me staring at her. She cocks her head. "You okay?" she asks.

"Fine."

She frowns. "Have I said too much?" "No. No, I needed to know. Everything."

"Yes you do." She narrows her eyes. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"Yeah. I'm sure. Just a lot to…"

"Think about?"

I nod. "Yeah. I seem to be saying that a lot, lately. "

She smiles, and looks back down at the magazine. I take another sip of tea and am about to ask if she can see my future. If my eyes are brown or red. But before I can ask, Alice gives an excited squeal.

"Ooh, look!" She holds up the magazine for me to see. "Cossak hats are coming back in fashion. I've always loved those. I had a white one once. Maybe this time I should get a grey one. Or black. But black might not look right with my hair. Not enough contrast." And I realise I'm smiling as she frowns, rubs an elegant hand over the short, dark strands and asks me my opinion.

####

There will be no memorial service for Kim. Instead her family has decided on a small, private, traditional ceremony.

"It's the way they want it," Charlie tells me when he calls a couple of days later with the news. "It's just for members of the tribe."

"So, you're not going?" I poke at my dinner as I sit at the kitchen counter. "No," he says. "I've already paid my respects to her parents."

A wave of relief washes over me, knowing that I won't have to attend a memorial service and lie to a grieving family, pretending their daughter is dead and gone when she's not. And then I feel selfish for being relieved.

"Um, how is everyone?" I ask.

"Like you'd expect," Charlie says.

He changes the subject. He asks me about school, and work. And Edward. Then he asks about the wedding.

"Um, we've decided to postpone," I say, wincing. "We thought, um, with everything that's happened…"

"Oh." I can hear Charlie's surprise. "Bells no-one would expect you to do that. You were keeping it small anyway, weren't you? Just family?"

"Yeah, I know, but we thought it would be better this way. Out of respect. For Kim." My face is on fire and my throat is dry. "It wouldn't feel right, celebrating so soon after what's happened."

I realise as I say the words, that it truly is how I feel. That initial anger at delaying our wedding is long gone. Even if Edward came back now, today, I'd still want to wait. It wouldn't feel right celebrating our own future when my friends are suffering.

"That's thoughtful of you," Charlie says. "And Edward's okay with that?"

"Er, yeah, he's very okay. It was kind of his idea."

"Well, that's very decent of him," Charlie says, and not too begrudgingly. "Have you told your mother?" "I sent her an email this morning." Coward that I am, I couldn't bear having Renee in my ear when I broke the news. As it was, her written response had brought me to tears with her sadness over my friend, combined with her own brand of philosophy, and her belief in a beautiful future for Edward and me. Let the universe do its work, honey, she'd written. And don't try to understand, because you're not meant to, even if you live for a thousand years, Bella.

"Have you got a new date?" Charlie asks, and his simple question emphasizes the huge difference between him and my mother. "Not yet. I'll let you know."

"Make sure you do," he says. "I've got a suit waiting."

After we say goodbye, I sit staring at the kitchen counter for a long time.

Thinking.

My dinner goes stone cold and when I finally get up my body is stiff from sitting for too long. So I go take a shower, and let the water pound down on my head and over my back.

And I keep thinking.

Alice and Esme arrive a little later.

"Are you all right, Bella?" Esme asks. She's been baking for me again, and sets a plastic container on the kitchen counter before hugging me carefully.

"If it wasn't for the towel on your head I'd say you'd just woken up from a nap," Alice says as she breezes past me into the living room. "No nap," I say. "Just been thinking. And thanks Esme." She smiles as I lift the lid and take a brownie. It's still warm, and though I'm not hungry, I take a big bite. My appetite left the night Jake arrived to tell us about Kim, and it hasn't come back. "Is there any news?"

"We've heard from Emmett," Esme says. "They're taking Kim to Alaska. Carlisle's been making arrangements with our Denali cousins. He left a little while ago to meet the others there."

"Alaska?" I look from her to Alice. "Kim will spend her newborn year there?" Alice nods. "Or however long it takes. It's a good location. Very remote. Lots of prey."

"Is she doing alright?"

Alice shares a quick look with Esme.

"She's not adapting as well as we would hope," Esme says. "But everyone's different. Some will take longer than others." There's something in her tone that puts me on edge.

"And some won't adapt at all?"

Esme frowns softly and sighs. "Our lifestyle isn't for everyone. There are some who will reject it."

A coldness creeps over my skin. This had never occurred to me. I'd just assumed that with the right help any newborn could become a vegetarian.

"She'll be okay," Alice chimes in quickly. "She will. Edward knows what he's doing. He's been through it with Esme and Rose and Emmett. It'll just take time."

I don't know why I'm shocked, but I am. I suppose I'd thought of the Cullens as all-conquering, able to fix anything. The idea that things mightn't always go to plan, is unexpected. And unsettling.

I swallow the brownie without even tasting it. "When did they leave for Alaska?"

"They're on their way now," Esme says. "Jared's gone with them too."

"It'll be interesting for the Denali's," Alice smiles. "Living with a werewolf. Not their usual type of houseguest."

"They've been very accommodating," Esme says. "And then, once Kim is settled in they'll come home. Jared will stay, of course. He says he won't leave her." She hesitates. "And Edward will need to stay a little longer," she says.

"What? No! Why can't he come home too?" I can feel my tears starting again and I'm so sick of crying. I push the heels of my hands into my eyes and take a deep, slow breath, willing the tears to stop.

I feel Esme's fingers on my arm. When I pull my hands from my face, she motions for me to sit on the sofa. I drop onto the cushions while she sits beside me and takes my hand. Alice takes the rocking chair.

"Kim is still very unpredictable right now, and that makes her extremely dangerous," Esme explains. "Edward's gift means right now he's the only one who can help her."

"Jasper's gift can only do so much," Alice says. "It's Edward that's really needed there."

I can see how that makes sense, but it still hurts. I miss him so much. And then I remember that Alice will have been missing Jasper, too. She could probably have gone with the others, but she's chosen to stay here, with me.

"He'll come back as soon as he can," Alice says. "You know he'll be missing you."

"I know," I whisper, although I wonder, vaguely, why he didn't call me himself to tell me about Alaska.

"Do you think Joham will come back?" The unwelcome thought comes suddenly, from nowhere, and brings a sharp stab of panic with it. "Or one of his group? What if they find out about Cornelius and go to La Push for revenge?"

"No," Esme says, voice firm. "Carlisle's made contact with Joham about that. None of them will be coming near us, or La Push, again. You can be sure of that."

The hard certainty in her voice surprises me. "What did Carlisle do?"

She smiles now and her face softens. "What he needed to. Carlisle is a gentle man, but he's not a weak one. And I think Joham realises he and his followers are no match for a solid, strong vampire family. Or an equally strong family of wolves."

"Any news from Charlie?" Alice asks suddenly and my mind takes a moment to change track.

"Hm? Oh, he called a while ago," I say. "No memorial service. Just a private ceremony. And I've told my parents that we've postponed the wedding."

Esme's still holding my hand. She gives it a gentle squeeze. "It must be a relief," Alice says, smiling. "Not having to go and face everyone."

"This will make things much easier for you," Esme smiles too.

I nod slowly. "Yeah. You'd think so, wouldn't you?"

Esme and Alice exchange a look.

"I've been thinking," I say. "If this was real, I'd go back to Forks and see everyone at La Push and pay my respects, even if I wasn't going to the ceremony." I sigh, heavily. "I'd still go. I would have already left, like two days ago, when Charlie first called me. It's what I'd do. So…" I shrug.

Alice's mouth curves into a surprised smile. "You're playing your role," she says slowly. "I guess I am. I'm being meticulously responsible."

"It won't be easy for you," Esme says, frowning softly.

"I know. But I can do this."

I know that now. Life with Edward will be beautiful, but sometimes it'll be hard. Very hard. If I want to be with him I have to accept that, and get used to it now.

But I also want to go to home to Forks to hug my dad. I want to see my friends. I can be there for Sam and Jake and Billy and Sue and the others who are also battling with the truth of what's happened while trying to hide behind a lie.

And I can tell Kim's parents how sorry I am.

And that won't be a lie.

oo

It turns out Edward had called me. At 7:43pm. When I was in the shower with the water pounding over my head. I find the message on my phone after Alice and Esme leave. I hit the message bank and listen. He sounds rushed, almost breathless.

"Bella, it's me. There's been a change of plans and we're moving Kim to Denali." There are noises in the background but I can't make them out. "I'm not sure when I'll be back. Things are, well, things aren't going as smoothly as we'd hoped." Someone is calling him, I can hear it clearly now. "I have to go but I'll call again when I can." I hear his name called again, more urgently this time, and then I hear something that makes my stomach drop.

Wailing. An unnatural soul-piercing howl. But I know the howl of the wolves, and this isn't it. Even through the phone the sound slices through me, chilling me to the bone, turning my blood and marrow to ice.

"Hold her!" Edward yells. "I said hold her! No! Hold her down!" and then, quietly, quickly… "I love you, Bella."

The message ends and I stare at the phone, mouth open, wanting to get that sound out of my head and knowing I never will.

Finally, I shake myself and gingerly put the phone down on the coffee table, like it's something poisonous.

"I love you too, Edward," I whisper, and curl up on the sofa as dark thoughts flood my mind.

Would that be me one day, if I decide to change? Would that be me, wailing and howling like that? Having to be held down?

I shut my eyes and try again to get that sound out of my head.

Lots to think about.

I don't know how long I sit, but when Mrs Upshot's cat appears, meowing at my window, it breaks me from my thoughts and I realise it's almost 11 o'clock. I should go to bed, but sleep is a long way off, and I need a distraction. I've sat staring at walls for far too long, lately. So I put The Chimes on my iPod and clean out my closet. Then I re-arrange the kitchen cupboards, dancing and singing along to U2, and it feels good to do something normal.

I finish my English assignment while Mozart plays in the background.

My first yawn comes around 1.30am. I haven't wanted to sleep in the new bed without Edward, but tonight that's going to change. The sofa has done me no favours. But I do decide to sleep in one of his t-shirts. I go to the drawer that I set aside for him in the dresser and pull it open. Rummaging through the shirts and sweaters, my hand hits something hard in the back corner.

A box. Large, square and flat. Plain and unmarked.

I pull it out slowly and though I know I probably shouldn't, I lift the lid.

"Oh…"

A pair of men's board shorts. Black ones. With blue, stylised waves along one side. And tucked into the pocket are two, first-class plane tickets to Brazil. Departing the US on December 26th.

"Our honeymoon," I whisper. "He told me to pack for the sun." Brazil. How was he going to make that work? "He'd be lit up like a disco ball." A small smile tugs at my lips as I imagine Edward on a beach, in his board shorts. I don't know when I'll get to see it for real, but I know I will, one day, and right now I need to focus on that.

Beneath the board shorts is something else.

"Oh my God, is he serious?" It's a bikini. Deep turquoise, fading into aqua. It's my size and gorgeous. But there's not a lot to it. A few flimsy, silky, barely-there triangles; seriously sexy stuff. "Edward Cullen, what are you thinking?" I'm blushing just looking at it, but the thought that he'd like to see me in this is pleasing.

There's one more thing in the box. A smaller box. Pale blue with a white bow. Unmistakable.

"Tiffany."

I touch the bow. I pick up the box. It sits neatly in the palm of my hand.

"What have you done, Edward?"

I give the box a little shake but it makes no sound. I'm curious, but I don't open it. I'll wait until he can give it to me himself. Whenever that will be.

Fresh tears roll down my cheeks but I dash them away quickly as I put everything back where I found it. Then I take a couple of deep breaths, grab Edward's old Navy Anapolis t-shirt and head for the bathroom.

I've cried enough now.

####

Two days later I find myself, with Charlie, in the living room of Kim's family home. The little house is crowded, full of family and friends who have gathered to give support and help prepare for the ceremony. Emily catches my eye as she comes out of the kitchen, carrying a dish. She nods and mouths hello, and I nod back. Then my teeth are clenched and my jaw is set as I approach Kim's parents, sitting side-by-side on a sofa at the end of the room. My hands shake and my throat tightens as I tell them how sorry I am, and ask if there is anything I can do. The words come more easily than I'd thought, perhaps because they're the truth and not a lie. Faces drawn and dead-eyed, they thank me and say no, there's nothing I can do. Nothing. Their pain is palpable but as I turn away, Kim's mom reaches out and touches my arm.

"We know you've come out of your way to be here, Bella," she says. "And we appreciate that. Thank you for coming."

I wish so much that I could tell them the truth – their daughter isn't gone and their grief is for nothing. This all seems so cruel. But then I catch sight of a photo on the mantle. A smiling, happy Kim, with the wind in her hair and the beach as her backdrop. It's a beautiful picture. Then I think of that phone message from Edward and the sounds in the background and I wonder if maybe there's more cruelty in the truth. Maybe it's better to remember the smile.

Kim's mom lets go of my arm. "I'm so sorry," I whisper. Then I turn away.

Charlie is on the other side of the room, talking with Billy and Sue.

"You okay?" he asks when I reach him.

"That was…" I can't finish the sentence. Sue passes me a tissue while Charlie puts his arm around my shoulder and gives me an awkward but reassuring squeeze.

"Yeah, I know," he says.

He was surprised when I arrived at his front door last night. He'd hugged me – very un-Charlie-like, and then lectured me about the dangers of driving alone and told me to never, ever leave the car if I broke down. He muttered something about Thanksgiving, when my truck got bogged in the woods, and then hugged me again. It wasn't hard to see where his thoughts had gone.

"It was good of you to come, Bella." Billy smiles but the lines in his face seem deeper than usual. His eyes are pained and he looks twenty years older.

"We know you've postponed your wedding," says Sue. Her face is drawn and it looks like she hasn't slept for days. "That was very thoughtful of you. And it's appreciated." She reaches out to take my hand.

"Jacob got back last night," says Billy.

"Oh?"

He nods. "Jared's been gone for a few days…"

"It's the shock," Sue says and I can see the story explaining Jared and Jakes' absence falling into place. "He had to get away for a while."

"And Jake's gone with him," Billy finishes.

"But Jake's back now?" I ask, shooting a quick, wary look in Charlie's direction.

"I'm sure he'd like to see you," Billy says.

"Yeah. Sure. Um, I'd like that, too." I turn to my dad. "I might go and see him now. If you don't mind."

"Just call me when you're ready to leave," he says.

oo

Jake opens his front door and pulls me into a tight hug. "Geez, you look like crap, Bells."

Despite everything that's going on, I laugh. I hadn't been sure what sort of reception I'd get from Jake, considering how things ended the last couple of times we spoke. Considering everything that's happened.

"You always were a smooth talker." "Yeah, that's me." He pulls back and studies me. "Have you slept or eaten at all, lately? The hollows under your eyes…"

I know. Almost a week of little sleep and even less appetite will do that to a person. I'm starting to look the way I did when Edward left me. His ring slid off my finger in the shower this morning and I'd scrambled around on the tiles, panicking, before I'd found it. It's back at Charlie's now, sitting safely in the pocket of my backpack, wrapped in tissue paper.

"Yeah, I get it, I look like crap. But this isn't about me, right now, is it?"

Jake's face becomes serious.

"No. It isn't." He steps back and ushers me inside. I take a seat on the old sofa while he sits in the armchair.

"You've come from Kim's place?" he asks.

"Yeah." My eyes fill again. "I wanted to tell them, but…"

"It's not easy, is it?" Jake says. "Knowing the truth."

"No." I sniff and wipe my face on my sleeve. And though I'm desperate to hear news of Edward, I'm just as desperate to hear about Kim. "How is she?"

Jake drags his hands over his head and blows out a sharp breath. "I don't know. It looks pretty bad to me, but yesterday Edward seemed to think things were improving. She did seem kind of calmer."

In amongst all the stress and sadness, I feel a swift dart of surprise when Jacob calls Edward by his proper name. But I don't mention it; not yet.

"I don't really know anything about newborns," I say. "Except that they're stronger and thirstier than normal. And unpredictable."

"She looks different," Jake frowns. "Not a lot, but enough. The red eyes are freaky. But there is still some of her in there. A couple of times she's almost seemed like her old self, but most of the time…" He stops and shakes his head. "She's wild. Edward says newborns are erratic, but it just looks like crazy, to me." A tear spills onto his cheek and he wipes it away quickly. I reach for him but he pulls away. "He says it's sensory overload with all the heightened senses and everything, and it takes time to get used to it and adjust. But they say Kim's more erratic than usual and Jasper's thing with the moods isn't doing much." He shuts his eyes and winces. "And when she's thirsty it's like nothing I've ever seen. When she hunts there's nothing of Kim there then. Seeing her like that, rolling on the ground feeding on an animal, tearing into it…" He shudders.

I'm kind of shocked, not just by Jake's description, but the fact that he's seen it.

"You go hunting with them?" Jake nods. "Jared and I go out with them, as wolves. It's usually Edward who takes her because he can get in her head and predict what she might do. If she's going to run off. But he's still had to take her down more than once. It's a good thing he's fast."

"Take her down?"

"Grab her. Wrestle her onto the ground to stop her." Jake's face is blank and his voice is empty as he talks. "Jared and I can't do anything because their venom is deadly to werewolves. If we accidentally got bit, then…"

"Oh my God, Jake…"

"So we have to stand there and watch while Edward or Jasper, sometimes both, fight with her."

"Fight?"

He nods. "She wants to get away. From all of us." He looks at me sadly. "I think she's trying to get away from herself."

More tears burn at the backs of my eyes.

"A couple of times it's been Emmett and you'd swear he'd just crush her but she throws him off like he's a toy."

The image Jake is painting is horrific and I realize my hands are shaking.

"I had a message on my phone from Edward the other night. Just before you left for Alaska. I could hear her."

Jake nods. "The car couldn't get all the way in to the cabin, the woods were too thick. So we had to bring her out a little way, near the trails." He grimaces. "She got wind of some hikers just as Edward called you. Things got pretty bad." He looks down and for a moment I think he's going to cry. "It took five of us to get her in the jeep."

"The sounds she was making…" I shiver a little.

"Emmett says it's a newborn thing, when the craving for human blood is still uncontrollable."

"Esme said things weren't going as they'd hoped it would." "We've got nothing to compare it to," Jake says. "We just have to trust what Edward and the others tell us. Edward and Kim have these weird conversations where she's silent and he answers her questions, and he's saying she's got a whole extra layer of stuff to deal with that most people don't."

"Layers?" Jake nods and begins ticking things off on his fingers. "Shock. Over-stimulation. Newborn thirst. Vampire instincts. They're the main things a newborn deals with, but with Kim…" He pauses. "There's also the fact she's become the thing we've all been raised to hate."

I can feel the blood drain from my face. "Shit," I mutter, and Jake nods.

"Yep. That pretty much sums it up." He turns and looks out the window.

"She's become the enemy. Oh God, poor Kim. I never thought of that, but, I mean, she knows none of you see her that way." "She knows. She knows. But I don't think that helps. Her bond with Jared is just as strong, he tells her all the time he still loves her, and she loves him, but she can't deal with what she's become. There's all this…" He scrunches up his face, trying to find the word.

"Self-loathing," I whisper.

"And anger. The anger is making things worse."

Jake's quiet, staring at me while this new realization sinks in.

"She didn't know werewolves or vampires existed until Jared started phasing, but before that she'd been raised on the old stories. All the legends of our tribe. It's ingrained."

"That's why it's not going the way they'd hoped?"

"Yeah, it hasn't been good so far." Jake drags his hands over his head again. "And that's what I was talking about before, when I said she's trying to run away from herself."

"But you said Edward thinks she's improving?"

"Yeah." He sighs. "He said that yesterday. And he might be right. He's been talking to her a lot. They all have. And she seemed different when we got to Denali. He took her hunting after we arrived and it's the first time she didn't try to get away. And she seemed calmer afterwards."

I'm so relieved to hear it. "Esme says everyone's different. Maybe Kim was just taking longer to adjust because of those extra layers Edward talked about, and now things will start to settle down."

"Dunno. Maybe it was getting away from here. Too many memories of who she was. Edward didn't go into it that deep, but I'm sure he has his theories." He frowns. "Bells, do the Cullens live like the Denali's?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know," Jake shrugs. "With proper furniture and stuff? Nice furniture? And lots of light?"

"I haven't been to the Denali's but the Cullens have nice things. And lots of light." A small smile creeps across my face. "You're surprised?"

Jake shrugs again.

"You were expecting coffins and dungeons, right?"

He gives me a sheepish look. "I guess I didn't know what to expect."

"I've tried telling you before, Jake, the Cullens aren't like horror movie vampires. They're not like the vampires in your old scary stories."

"I know," he says. "I know. I get that now. Hey, you want a drink or something?"

We move to the kitchen and Jake makes me a hot chocolate that is way too watery, but at least it's warm.

"How's Jared doing?" I ask as Jake leans on the counter.

"Up and down. His feelings for haven't changed. He even asked Emmett to change him so he and Kim were the same."

I almost spill my cup. "Seriously?"

Jake nods. "Yeah. But he can't."

"Because of the venom."

"Yep."

"But he'd do that for her? The wolf would willingly become a vampire?"

"In a second." Jake cocks his head. "She's his imprint. He'd do anything."

"I guess." My mind races as I take a mouthful of my hot chocolate. "So what happens now with Jared and the tribe?"

Jake yawns and stretches. The circles under his eyes are worse than mine.

"The tribe will treat him no differently, nothing changes for him and he'll be here soon for the ceremony tomorrow, then he'll go back to Denali right after. But it's too soon to work out what else he's going to do. I just know he and Kim will be together."

"But she obviously can't come back to La Push."

"No, she can't." Jake shakes his head.

I shift on my stool and hug my coat around me, tight. Even though Jake's house is warm, I feel chilly.

"Will you go back to Denali too after the ceremony?"

"Nah, I don't think so. Only if Jared wants me to."

And now something new occurs to me. "Jared won't age, will he? Not while he keeps phasing."

"Nope."

"So he and Kim can theoretically be together forever."

"Yep." Jake leans forward again, almost collapsing across the counter as he yawns once more. "That's what he's focusing on right now. He's looking at it as a positive. And Rosalie's pushing that point with Kim, too. Trying to make her see something good in it all." He pulls out a stool and sits. "She's been nice."

"Who? Rosalie?"

"Yeah." Jake frowns, like he's puzzled. "Actually, they've all been nice. And…kind."

My heart swells a little bit.

"Am I hearing you right, Jake?" A small smile curves on my lips. "I mean, I noticed that you're calling Edward and his family by their names, but now you're saying they're nice? And kind?"

He rolls his eyes. "Okay, yes. I guess I've kind of found a new respect for him and the others." He swallows and looks down. "I think we all have. We all owe them a huge debt. It was hard coming to Edward for help but we didn't know what else to do. But if it wasn't for them…" he trails off. "I don't even want to think about it, but I don't think we'd still have Kim. We're all very grateful." I reach out and rub his arm. "It's been a surprise," he goes on. "Finding out that…"

He shrugs, but I feel a small spark of hope.

"Finding out that you might not hate them?"

Jake looks at me and nods, but he seems eager to change the subject. So I ask what the Denali coven is like; wondering about Kate, the vampire Edward almost kissed.

"They've been helpful," Jake says. "I thought with Jared and me being wolves, there'd be a problem but they seem…accepting. And they've welcomed Kim with open arms." Then he looks down at the counter, frowning at it like it's done something to offend him. "Nothing's been like we expected." Then very quietly he adds, "I'm sorry you've missed your wedding, Bells."

"S'okay," I mumble.

"The treaty will be lifted," he says. "The Cullens will be welcome at La Push." He looks up now and smiles softly. "So you can bring Edward with you if you come and visit."

My mouth falls open with a soft gasp. Tears pool in my eyes and Jake gives an exasperated sigh as he climbs off his stool and pulls me into another hug.

"Not again with the tears," he says, chuckling.

He brushes his hand over my cheek.

"I just miss him so much," I whisper.

"I know," Jake says.

"And you've missed Beth." "Yep. And Edward misses you."

"Has he said anything about me?" Jake shakes his head. "No. But that's no surprise. We're not exactly BFF's."

I snort a laugh and Jake smiles. "But sometimes when one of the others is with Kim, he goes off and sits on his own, real quiet, I'm pretty sure he's missing you then."

He lets me go and climbs back on his stool and I stare at him, smiling.

"This is surreal," I say. "I'm trying to get my head around the change in you."

"Well, things change," he says. "And I figure you have to change with them, or..." He shrugs the rest of his sentence. "That sounds very deep for you."

"Hey, I can be deep." He almost sounds hurt. "You just never looked hard enough." He makes a face at me. "Knowing who Kim was, seeing who she is now, and who she's becoming, it makes me see things differently. Makes me see people differently." He pauses and rolls his eyes. "Okay, it's made me see the Cullens differently. Edward's been real patient with her."

I trace some invisible patterns on the counter top.

"Tell me about him?" I say. "How is he?" At last I ask the question I've been aching to ask since I walked through Jake's front door. Jake shrugs. "He seems fine." "That's it?" "What do you want? Every facial expression? Every word?"

Basically, yes. But I don't say that. I tell Jake I want a bit more than 'he seems fine', and I'm kind of shocked with what he decides to share.

"It's chilling, watching him kill."

His words hang there between us and for a second I wonder if he's trying to scare me.

"When he hunts," he continues. "Kim's all over the place when she does it, but Edward…he's almost graceful when he brings down his prey. Then the snarling starts, and the growling, and he throws his head back and bares his teeth just before he bites." His lip curls and he screws up his face. I've often wondered what Edward is like when he hunts, and though the picture Jake paints is disturbing, I don't feel the same revulsion that he obviously does. I find myself fascinated, wishing I could see it for myself.

"At least it's quick," Jake goes on. "And clean. I don't think the animal feels anything, except fear. He's trying to teach Kim to do the same."

"The fear increases the adrenalin," I mumble. "Edward's told me that."

"And the adrenalin makes the blood sweeter," Jake adds flatly. "More satisfying, Rosalie said."

I nod, dumbly. I know it's stupid, but a part of me is jealous that Jake has seen this side of Edward. I suppose, if I do decide to change, my chance will come. And it's almost like Jake has read my mind. His face becomes serious.

"You still going to marry him?"

"Of course! This doesn't change how I feel about Edward. It doesn't change anything." But I wince as I say the words. "Actually, that's wrong. It does change things, I'd be an idiot to say it doesn't."

Jake leans forward, resting his elbows on the counter and cupping his chin in his hands. "What things?"

"Well, I guess I know what being a part of Edward's world really means now. I didn't fully grasp that before, not properly. It's like, I'm out of the bubble. The fantasy has flown."

"What bubble?" Jake asks.

"Nothing," I shake my head. "But I can see now that I'm not just marrying Edward, I'm marrying everything that comes with him, and there are responsibilities that come with that. Expectations."

Jake smirks a little. "Sounds like you're marrying into royalty or something." Then his smirk fades and he's serious again. "Bells, are you still going to change?"

Now I look away to the window. "If you'd asked me a week ago, I would have said yes, but now…"

"Because of what I've just said? About the hunting?"

"No. It's a lot of things." I turn back to him. "Hearing Kim through the phone. Charlie and my mom; seeing Kim's family today, I don't know if I could put them through that." I turn my cup in a slow circle. "Just when I think I've got things all worked out…"

Jake stretches again. I'm expecting a lecture. I'm assuming he'll tell me I shouldn't change, but he doesn't. He yawns instead.

"Yeah, I know what you mean," he says. "Just when you think you know everything…" There's a clap of thunder in the distance. "Rain's coming."

Then Jake asks if Charlie wondered why Edward hadn't come to La Push with me.

"I told him Edward's caught my flu. He's laid up, highly contagious, unable to travel."

Jake nods. "That works," he says.

The back door opens suddenly, surprising me. A greater surprise is seeing Jared standing there. He looks a thousand years old.

It takes me a second to register, then I'm off my stool and hugging him, telling him I'm sorry.

"Thanks Bella." Jared takes my hands as I step back, holding them in his as he offers me a weak smile.

"I'm so sorry," I whisper. "I don't know what else to say. I just wish…I wish I could make things different." I sniff and wipe my sleeve over my face. "No-one should ever go through this." It's such a lame, impotent thing to say, but I think Jared understands.

He hugs me again. "I know."

Billy arrives home a moment later.

"Thought I saw you arrive," he says to Jared, and Jared leans down to embrace him. "We have things to talk about," Billy says gently and I take that as my cue to leave.

####

It's raining and dark by the time Charlie and I get home. Neither of us are very hungry so I just make grilled cheese and we sit and watch an old movie together in silence, eating off our laps like we used to do sometimes for a treat when I was little.

The next afternoon as I get ready to leave, Charlie comes to my room.

"I've checked your truck," he says. "Everything seems good. Tyres have plenty of tread on them. Gas tank's full."

"Thanks, Dad."

"Yeah, well…" He trails off, frowning. "You call me when you get back to Portland. As soon as you walk in the door."

"I promise." I go to zip up my overnight bag, but stop. Instead I throw my arms around my dad and hug him hard. He's surprised by the uncharacteristic display, but after a second he hugs me back.

"I can stay longer, Dad," I say. "I don't have to go today. I can stay."

He pats my back gently. "It's been good having you here," he says. "But it's time for you to go. You need to get back. You've got classes, and your job. And Edward. He'll be missing you, I'm sure."

"But…"

"No." Charlie shakes his head as he pulls back a little. "I'm fine, Bells. And I just want you safe so call me if there's a problem with the truck. If you break down, doesn't matter what time it is or where you are, you call me."

"I will, Dad. I promise. If I need help I'll call. Whatever the time. Or place."

Charlie nods. "And just…be careful." He exhales sharply and looks around my old room. He focuses on the map of the world poster that still hangs on the wall. "Sometimes I wish I could make you ten feet tall and bullet proof, Bells," he says, so quietly I almost don't hear. I wonder if I was even meant to.

Then, in a gesture from my childhood, he touches my cheek – something he hasn't done since I was six years old. "Now get going while you've got plenty of daylight."

####

As I drive past Forks High, on my way out of town, I remember the first time I saw Edward Cullen. I remember the cafeteria and that biology lesson. The horror on his face when I took the seat next to his.

If I'd known then, on that first day, what I know now, would I have done things differently? Would I have stayed away from him?

Edward told me to really think about what life with him would mean.

And I have.

I've thought of little else since he left. This past week has been a shock, but I understand now about the responsibilities of being a Cullen. And the lies. I've really thought about what I'd be giving up to be with Edward, and who I'd be giving up.

As I head for Portland, I keep thinking, and the sound of Kim howling and wailing plays over and over in my head.

####

The manager of The Drum decides on a traditional Christmas theme. With a standard, plastic tree in the front window, decorated with blank CDs that sparkle silver amongst the red and green tinsel. Alison is appalled by the cliche and Scott is victorious.

I've been back in Portland for a week when Alice walks through the shop doors, up to my counter, and asks if we stock the Glenn Miller Christmas Album.

"The one that has Silver Bells on it," she says.

She's smiling hugely, almost giggling, as I lead her over to the newly created Classic Christmas section.

"What's going on?" I ask as I hand her the CD. She wasn't like this last night when we played Monopoly until 11.30 and I wonder if she has news of Edward. I haven't heard from him since that message the night they left for Alaska. No calls. No texts. According to Esme the phone signal isn't very strong where he is. "Very hit and miss," she said. But even so, I take my phone into the bathroom with me now when I have a shower. Just in case.

"They came back this morning," Alice says.

"Oh!" "Not Edward," she adds quickly. "Jasper and Emmett and Rose and Carlisle, but they can tell you all about him, and they say they don't think he'll be gone too much longer." She giggles. "You finish in half an hour don't you?" "Yes." The smile is so wide on my face it almost hurts.

"You'll come over?" "Try and stop me."

oo

Carlisle greets me with a careful hug, tells me he knows all this can't have been easy for me, and asks me how I am and how are things in La Push.

"She doesn't want to talk about all that," Emmett chuckles. "She wants to hear about Edward, right?" I feel the blush roar across my cheeks and Carlisle smiles. "Of course," he says.

"He sends his love," Rosalie chimes in. I wait for more, but there's nothing. Just he sends his love. It sounds so formal. But then I guess he's not likely to pour his heart out to his family and ask them to pass it on.

"He misses you so much it's almost sickening." Emmett pulls a face like he's dying and Rosalie rolls her eyes.

"He does miss you," she says. "But he doesn't look like that."

"He said he misses me?"

"Never said it exactly," Emmett says. "But it's obvious. He's moping."

"He always mopes," Jasper drawls.

"Yeah," Emmett chuckles. "But his Bella moping is different to his regular moping. It's mopier."

Esme motions for me to take a seat on the sofa as Jasper smiles and gives me a polite nod from the opposite side of the room, where he sits snuggled in the wide armchair with Alice.

"But he's okay?" I'm hoping that he's sent me a message or a note, or something. I wait, but no-one pulls out an envelope and says, He asked me to give you this.

"He's fine," Carlisle says. "And now that Kim is starting to settle, it shouldn't be much longer until he's home."

Not much longer. How much is not much? Days? Weeks? I want to ask for specifics, but I also realise there's probably no way of knowing with these things. I'll just have to take it one day at a time.

"Kim's doing okay?" I ask.

"Improving. She's calmer," Carlisle says.

"She's beginning to accept what's happened, instead of fighting it," Jasper adds.

"And having Jared with her helps, of course," says Rosalie.

I nod. "I'm glad she's doing better."

"She's getting there," Emmett says.

"And she knows she can always have a home here with us," Carlisle adds. "When she's ready. We've told her, she and Jared are always welcome."

Sometimes the generosity of the Cullens amazes me. And I realise, as I look around, that their choice to live the way they do isn't just an intellectual decision – it comes from their hearts.

"And Edward should be back by New Year," Emmett says suddenly, smiling. "'Cos you wanted something more specific than 'not much longer', right?"

There's laughter and I join in. My heart lifts. New Year. Okay. I can wait until then. It's not that far away. But still, I wonder why he hasn't made contact.

"It's because of his gift," Rosalie says. "It's beneficial right now. He's using it for good instead of evil."

"Rose!" Esme scolds. "He never uses it for evil."

"Oh, he does," Rose retorts, looking around the room. "We all know it."

"I think evil is too strong a word," Jasper smirks. "Mischief, maybe?"

Rose shakes her head. "Evil. You think I've forgotten 1972?" Emmett laughs. "Yeah, that was pretty evil," he says. "Funny though." Rose glares at him before standing and going upstairs in a huff.

"What?" I ask. "What did he do?"

Emmett leans forward and whispers, very quietly. "The school was doing a stage version of Blackboard Jungle . It was a small school and everyone in Rose's grade had to audition, it was compulsory. Part of the audition was improvisation, you know, making stuff up on the spot, and even though Rose didn't want a part, she didn't want to fail. So she asked Edward to go with her, stand in the wings to read the teachers' minds, and whisper to her what they were thinking so she could give them what they wanted."

"Oh no." Already I can see where this is going. "He told her the wrong information, didn't he?"

Emmett nods. Jasper and Alice are trying to hide their laughs. Even Carlisle's smiling. Esme too. Though they're obviously trying not to.

"He told her they wanted someone who could get in touch with their jungleanimal instincts." He starts laughing so hard he can't speak and Jasper has to finish for him.

"He told her to act like a monkey, swinging from tree to tree." "No!"

"Yes," Alice giggles. "And he told her to make monkey sounds while she did it."

"Seriously? She didn't believe him, did she? She didn't do it?"

"She started to," Emmett chuckles. "She made a couple of ooh ooh noises, and started moving her arms above her head, but then she looked over at Edward and saw him laughing."

"She knew then he was messing with her," Alice says.

"What did she do?"

"Ran off stage, yelling that she was gonna kick his ass." "It's a good thing he's faster than her," Jasper grins.

"She didn't get a part, then?" "Nope," Emmett says. "And she still hasn't forgiven Edward."

"That's because Edward's still an ass!" Rose calls down and everyone laughs.

"But she got her revenge," says Alice. "She dyed all his clothes bright yellow."

"No!"

"Yes," Alice giggles. "He hates yellow."

Rose comes downstairs, smiling smugly as she rejoins the group.

"I told him he needed a little sunshine in his life," she says. "He didn't see it that way though. He was quite upset about his flares, if I remember correctly."

"They were nice ones," Alice nods. "They looked good on him."

"Hang on," I interrupt, wide-eyed. "Edward wore flares?"

"In the seventies, yes," Alice grins. "It was the fashion. Everyone wore them."

For some reason, I find myself looking at Carlisle.

"Even you?" I ask.

He shrugs. "It seemed like a good idea at the time," he says, smiling.

Everyone laughs and Alice brings out an old photo album and I see for myself, Edward in his flares – before they were yellow.

"Oh!" He looks so different. Denim flares, a purple paisley shirt. Arms crossed as he leans against the hood of a car I don't recognize. "His hair looks longer."

"It's the way it's combed," Alice says. "It hung over his face more." She flicks to another page. "See here, it's 1957 and his hair looks shorter because its slicked back."

1957 Edward stares up at me in black and white. Unsmiling. In a suit. Tall and dark and very, very handsome.

"Why is he wearing glasses?"

"To look older," Alice says. "This was at a university dinner. He was supposed to be 21."

Edward in glasses is a surprisingly good look. Very good. I find myself wondering if he still has them.

I trace my finger over the image. New Years. It's not that far away. Three weeks. I can be patient. I can wait.

oo

It's late when I get home and I'm so tired I almost forget to check the mailbox. It's only when I notice the catalogue sticking out of the slot that I'm reminded. But the catalogue isn't all I've got. Suddenly I'm not tired anymore. My fingers tremble as I take out the envelope. I'd know the graceful slant of that handwriting anywhere. The letter is from Edward.

I take the stairs two at a time, nearly stepping on Mrs Upshot's cat in the hall as I crash into my apartment, into the bedroom, and collapse on the bed. I swallow hard, trying to catch my breath, then I slowly open the envelope and begin to read.

_My dearest Bella,_

_If I had courted you in my human life, I would have written you love letters. Lots of them. And it occurs to me now that I have been remiss in this. So here is my love letter to you, long overdue._

_When we met in Portland I didn't know who you were, but almost from the first moment you captured my interest, and very soon after, my heart. And it wasn't long before I understood that your happiness was the only thing in the world that mattered to me. It is the only thing that will ever matter. I thought I knew that three years ago, back in Forks, when I loved you the first time, but I was wrong. The love I felt for you then is a pale reflection of the love I feel for you now – the love I've discovered quietly and gently, with wonder instead of fear. The love that came with smiles and laughs and bad jokes I'd never told before. The love that lets me accept myself, and lets you be you._

_The love that is deep enough to let you go, if that is what you need._

_I'm not being noble. This is not a grand gesture. I know you love me too, but I'm a lot to take on, I know that. And if, after all that's happened in these past weeks, you have doubts, or believe my world is not for you after all, I will understand. And I will be the better for you choosing a different path, knowing that you're happy, because that is all that matters._

_Yours always,_

_Edward_

I let the page drop onto the bed, and stare, blinking at it blindly.

"What is he talking about?" I snatch the letter back up again. I feel numb, like my feelings are on hold. Is this why he sent no message with his family? Why he hasn't tried calling? "Is he breaking up with me?"

I read the letter again, carefully.

"No, he's not breaking up, he's giving me an out." I read the words again, with a new understanding and my heart just about breaks, overwhelmed now by the depth of love in his message. He's not pushing me away like he did back in Forks, when things got hard. Back when his love then was all about control and calling the shots and thinking he knew best.

I touch the page, feeling the marks in the paper made by his pen. Made by his hand. With this letter he's truly given himself to me. He's truly put his heart in my hands.

He's not pushing me away, but he loves me enough to let me go. If that's what I want.

Looking at his words, and the prospect in black and white of being without him, my future is suddenly, blindingly clear. The thought of living out my human years with him, and then leaving him behind, is unbearable.

My mind races back over a million different things since that moment outside the library, when Edward took the bookmark from my hand. Little things. Moments. Gestures. A smile. Charlie words. Renee's email. Sitting with a family tonight as they shared memories and teased each other and looked at old photos.

A family.

I remember Edward's hand on my belly, telling me what he wanted. I want it too. Our life won't always be easy, but it will be beautiful. There will always be love and laughter. There will always be more light than dark.

A smile grows and spreads across my face. The truth of what I want comes like a sigh of relief. It wraps around me like a warm blanket, and settles in my heart.

Charlie wanted me ten feet tall and bulletproof? Well, five feet four and immortal is pretty close.

But I still don't understand what prompted Edward's letter. The last time we spoke he promised to come home to me. His message a week ago said he'd call again when he could. And now he's writing to say he'll let me go. What could have happened since last week to make him...

"Oh, shit. Jared."

Edward would have seen me in Jared's thoughts when he went back to Denali after Kim's ceremony. He would have seen that I wasn't wearing his ring. He would have heard my words… "I'm so sorry, Jared. No-one should ever go through this."

"He thinks I'm leaving him."

I grab my phone and hit Edward's number but it goes to voicemail. I don't leave a message; not yet. Instead I grab my laptop and look up flights for Alaska. This can't wait for New Years.

####

**Two Days Later**

**12noon**

Maybe I haven't thought this through properly. Edward hasn't responded to the text I sent two nights ago and as I board the coach that will take me from Anchorage Airport to the Denali National Park, I get a real sense of how far I am from home. And how alone.

I take my seat by the window, glad the bus is only half full and I don't have to share. I put my earbuds in, close my eyes, tell myself everything will be okay, and settle myself in for the five and a half hour drive.

**12.30pm**

The glass of the window is cold against my cheek. Outside the scenery is beautiful, a true winter wonderland, but I'm too anxious to properly take it in.

**1.00pm**

The woman across the aisle is snoring. The guy behind me is tapping his feet in time to some random beat. The air vent above me blows hot and cold. My phone is silent. Still no Edward. I shrug down into my jacket, pull the beanie I bought at the airport over my eyes, and try to sleep.

**1.30pm**

Still no Edward. Maybe I should have told the Cullens what I was doing. But this is too personal to share. I told them I'm taking a few days away for myself, just to relax. If Alice has seen the truth, she hasn't said anything.

**1.40pm**

Maybe I should call Alice.

**2.10pm**

I don't call Alice, but I do re-read the long and slightly rambling text I sent Edward right after I booked my plane and bus tickets. It makes me cringe. It's clumsy and cheesy and I really wish I'd taken longer to think about what I wrote.

_Edward, I got your letter. I'm not as eloquent as you, I don't have your words, so I'll keep this simple. You talk about me choosing a different path, well, I choose you. Forever. And I mean forever. Eternity. That's what will make me happy. I love you and your smile and your bad jokes and I'm on my way to tell you this in person. Bus arrives in Denali, 5.30 Thursday. I know you're busy and I'll understand if you can't come, but I have to try. I have a return ticket for Saturday and if I don't see you this trip, I'll see you when you come home to me, like you promised. Love, Bxx_

It's a stupid message. I choose you? Geez, Bella, could you have gone with anything more cliché? I shake my head. And busy? I called the situation with Kim busy? I don't think I'd blame him if he decided to ignore me altogether.

**3.00pm**

My body is stiff and my backside is numb. The guy in the seat behind taps on my shoulder and offers me pretzels. He asks if I'm going to Denali. I tell him I'm going to meet my fiancé. He backs off.

**3.15pm**

Why hasn't Edward responded? Even just to say he can't meet me? It's almost 40 hours now since I sent my text. Would he really be out of range that whole time?

**3.30pm**

Maybe he lost his phone while he was hunting.

**3.45pm**

Does he even carry his phone when he's hunting?

**3.50pm**

Maybe it broke.

**4.00pm**

I re-check the confirming email for my two nights of accommodation at the Park Lodge Hotel in the middle of town. If Edward can't come, I can just go sightseeing for a couple of days, right? I've never seen Alaska before.

**4.20pm**

I read Edward's letter again.

"Stupid vampire," I mutter, wiping my eyes. "How could he think..." The idea that Edward has spent the last week and a half thinking I might have changed my mind, is unbearable.

**4.30pm**

The bus slows a little as the road curves and winds.

"Hey, what's that?" The guy behind taps me on the shoulder again. "Did you see that?"

I turn to face him. "See what?"

"Out there. Outside."

I look out the window. Clouds. Snow. Trees. Mountains. It's beautiful, but nothing I wouldn't expect to see.

"I don't see anything."

The guy frowns. "I thought I saw..." He shakes his head. "Nothing." He holds out the pretzel bag again. "Sure you don't want one?" "I'm sure. Thanks."

I turn around again, settle back in my seat and rest my head against the window. It shouldn't be much longer now. Only a little while more and then the bus will arrive and hopefully...

I check my phone.

Nothing.

"Probably just the wind," says the guy behind me.

"Hm? Oh, yeah. Probably."

The bus takes another bend. The woman across the aisle snorts in her sleep and stirs. I yawn and stare out the window. It's begun to snow. There's a strange ripple in the tree branches and the leaves, like a wave moving through the trees. I watch closely for a moment, but it stops.

Probably the wind.

**4.40pm**

What if I misunderstood his letter? What if he's been thinking too, and with everything that's happened he's slipped back into his old Edward ways, decided I'm better off without him, and the letter was his way of telling me?

I hadn't thought of that.

An icy coldness creeps over my heart.

**4.45pm**

No! I'm being ridiculous. I don't believe that. Not for a second. He wouldn't do that, not now.

But I know that sometimes Forks Edward battles with Portland Edward.

What if this time, Forks Edward won?

**4.50pm**

Still no message.

**4.55pm**

What if he's been hurt?

**5.10pm**

The driver announces that we'll be arriving in fifteen minutes. The woman opposite wakes and stretches. Her bag slides off her lap and falls, spilling its contents everywhere. I help her gather up her things as they roll around on the floor.

**5.15pm**

The snow is getting a little heavier and the wave in the trees is back again. It's a curious thing, not the usual pattern of movement you'd expect from the wind.

Unless, it's not the wind.

There's flash of something amongst the green and white.

My heart picks up and I peer closely, my nose almost touching the glass.

"Edward?" I whisper.

"You see it too, right?" Pretzel guy is also pressed against the window. "There's something out there."

"Mountain lion," I say quickly. "Probably a mountain lion."

"You think so?"

"Sure. Happens all the time, they go running through the woods. I've seen it a lot."

He pulls away from the window. "They don't come into the towns, do they?" "Not often."

"Oh." He sits back in his seat with a bump.

I try to seem casual. I try very hard not to sit with my face flat against the glass. I glance down at my phone and when it beeps I'm so startled I almost drop it. I fumble with it for a moment, and then my heart crashes out of my chest when I see Edward's name flash on the screen.

_I'll be waiting for you_.

I turn to the window so quickly I bang my head against the glass.

The leaves and branches are still rippling. He's out there. Edward's out there. Racing the bus. And, as my phone beeps again, apparently texting as he runs.

_I like the beanie._

A giggle escapes me, and I try to send a text back but my hands are shaking too much to hit the right buttons. Anyway, I don't really want to look away from the window.

I see another flash of something through the trees.

And I get another message.

_I have a lot more bad jokes._

It's Portland Edward!

New Edward.

My heart feels like it might burst. Like it wants to jump out of my chest and run to him because that's where it belongs.

Then the rippling in the trees stops. The bus takes one more turn and slows right down. Gradually the trees disappear and the first buildings of the town come into view. And suddenly Edward's there, somehow appearing from a side street, running through the falling snow, keeping pace with the bus.

"Hey, there's some guy out there jogging! In this weather!" Pretzel guy is pointing.

"There is," I smile. "That's my fiancé."

"Yeah? Well, he oughta be careful of the mountain lion."

I am glued to the glass, grinning and mouthing I love youas Edward grins back. His phone is in his hand.

Another message.

_I love you, too. And forever won't be long enough._

And this bus won't stop soon enough.

I grab my bag, scramble out of my seat and stumble my way down the aisle. The bus jerks to a stop and it takes forever for the driver to open the doors. When he does I practically fall down the steps, and into Edward's open arms. He pulls me close, his face buried against my neck as he brings me inside his jacket, wrapping me up.

"Bella..." he whispers. "Oh, God, Bella..."

My face is pressed against the strong expanse of his chest. I'm vaguely aware of the other bus passengers getting off. There's movement and chatter, but I'm a million miles away. Cuddled up with Edward in his jacket.

He takes my face in his hands, smiling into my eyes with such love and tenderness and joy. There are snowflakes in his hair, on his cheek, as he kisses me softly. Slowly. Pulling me tighter against him. Pressing me the length of him. My body feels like it's on fire.

The kiss leaves us both breathless. Edward nuzzles my cheek with his nose. I feel the smile on his lips as they brush over my skin.

"Bella?" he says softly, his voice smooth.

"Mm?" Eyes closed, I sink into him, almost like I'm part of him. "Yes, Edward?"

"How do you make an egg-roll?"

What? That wasn't the I love you I was expecting. I pull back and giggle when I see the mischief sparkling in his eyes.

"I don't know Edward. How do you make an egg-roll?"

He lowers his face, his sweet breath washing over my skin as he whispers in my ear.

"You push it."

It's terrible. I groan. And laugh. "That was truly awful."

"I know," he grins. "And I've got a million of them. Just for you."

He pulls me close again. "Come on," he says. "Lets get out of the snow. I've got a surprise for you."

####

**A/N: There will be one more chapter of The Keepsake, and then an epi. I know I said this would be the last chapter, but yeah, I'm verbose :) Thank you all for sticking with me. I know updates have been slow and I appreciate your patience.**

*** Quote from Eclipse, p.581, copyright Stephenie Meyer 2007.**

*** Information about the wolf pack, and about the Cullens moving during the 1950's and 1930's, comes from The Twilight Saga: The Official Illustrated Guide.**

**A huge thank you to those who nominated and voted for The Keepsake for Fic of the Week on the Lemonade Stand. It won! And I am grateful and appreciate it more than I can say.**

**Thank you too, to everyone who has left me a review. They make my day and I try to answer as many as I can. If I haven't replied to yours, I'm sorry, but please know that I read them and appreciate them all.**

**And to the readers who've read and sent me messages about my novel, thank you so much. I truly, truly appreciate your support :) And one more thank you to my friend and beta Edward's Eternal (Melanie). She's always there for me, despite the time difference between our countries. Have you checked out her new story, Copy Room? Her latest Edward is a bit of a surprise.**

**If you're interested about my novel, Over The Edge, you can check it out on my website… suzannecarroll dot com . It's a love story with a laugh :)**

**Thanks again!**


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Just in time for the New Year...**

**Bella's arrived in Denali. Let's find out what Edward's surprise is.**

Edward is driving an all-terrain vehicle with the biggest tyres I've ever seen. The sky is dark as he steers, one-handed, along the narrow service-road that winds away from the town and through the dense Denali forests. His other hand holds mine on the console. The heat is turned up, I'm bundled snugly in his thermal jacket, and though so much has happened, and so much has changed, I don't think I've ever felt so happy. Or content.

"Not much further, now." He smiles at me, and lifts my hand to his lips, brushing a soft kiss over my knuckles.

I smile back. "Not much further to what? What's the surprise?"

"If I told you that..." And now I'm treated to an Edward Cullen smirk of the highest quality.

"I know, I know. It wouldn't be a surprise." I roll my eyes and he laughs, leans over and kisses me.

"The surprise is having you here," he says, turning back to the road. "Your message only came through a couple of hours ago and when I read..." He shakes his head and closes his eyes. The dashboard lights illuminate the shift in his expression. And mood. The smile slips. Contentment fades and frustration takes its place. "When I read your message I didn't know whether to be happy, or furious."

I give his hand a squeeze. "Judging from the greeting I got at the bus stop, I'm guessing you were happy."

"Ecstatic would be closer to the mark," he says, so grimly it almost makes me giggle.

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

He sighs, and then his words come fast as he changes gear. "Bella, you do realise the risk you took with this, don't you? In two days the park shuts down for the winter. No more buses, in or out. Businesses close up. No accommodation." He turns sharply to stare at me, his amber eyes blazing. "I'm out of phone range so much of the time, what if I hadn't got your text at all? What if you'd been stuck here alone with no way out?"

"Edward..." My thumb strokes softly over his skin. "I know about the close down. I'm booked on the last bus back to the airport. I'm the last guest staying at the Lodge and in two days, when I check out, they close up for the season. I knew all that when I made the bookings. It's all spelled out, clear as day, on the websites, and I organised the trip around it."

"The weather," Edward mutters. It's almost like he hasn't heard me, though I know he has. But he's on a roll, Forks-Edward style, and I'll just have to wait it out. "Did you check the forecast? There are storms predicted for next week. Blizzard-scale storms. Did you check?"

"No. But it's not next week yet."

"What if it came early? It still could."

"It hasn't."

"And the roads? The roads get icy. Even the main one in and out of town. The bus bringing you here could have skidded and crashed."

"It didn't."

He lets out a long breath, and I sense his roll is coming to an end. "No," he says. "It didn't. But you can forget taking the bus back. _I'll_ be driving you to the airport the day after tomorrow." His jaw is set. He is not to be argued with. Not that I want to argue. He can drive me to their airport. He can drive me wherever he likes.

I reach out and touch his cheek. "This discussion feels like old times. Can we go back to being ecstatic?"

He's very still for a second, then his lips twitch. He lifts my hand and kisses it again. "I'm sorry," he says, smiling. "But I worry. That will never change."

"I know."

He gives me his crooked smile, the one that makes my heart skip. "What made you come so suddenly," he asks, softly. "Was it the letter?"

I nod. "I thought at first that it was a love letter, but then as I read, I couldn't understand why you were saying the things you were. Then I realised you would have seen me in Jared's thoughts and you were giving me an easy out, if I wanted it. I couldn't bear the thought of you thinking I might not want you." There's a sudden burning at the backs of my eyes, and I blink hard against the threatening tears. "And I knew then, it really _was_ a love letter."

His hand tightens gently around mine. A fresh frown creases his forehead. "Yes," he whispers. "It was."

I snuggle deeper into his jacket, inhaling the scent of him. "Loving someone enough to let them go is pretty huge."

He nods, staring straight ahead. I see the slow movement of his throat as he swallows. "But you don't want to go," he says quietly, taking a sharp bend so easily I barely feel the car swerve.

"No. I don't want to go. I still want forever. With you. That's why I've come here. To tell you that to your face, so you can see in my eyes that I mean it."

Edwards turns and looks at me. Eyes locked, I feel myself drowning in his gaze, in the depths of the love I see there. A smile of incredible tenderness touches his lips. He lets go of my hand, and grazes a gentle finger along my cheekbone. Though his touch is cool, it leaves a path of heat on my skin.

"I know it won't always be easy," I say. "But I also know the good will outweigh the bad. And there'll always be love."

"Always." Then he takes my hand again, and together we change gears as he faces the road once more.

"I thought, maybe, having my world shoved in your face that way..." He stops, seemingly lost in thought. "This was different to what you'd experienced before. Different to James, or Victoria. This was _my life_ with the curtain pulled back. And I thought, as the days went on, and after the memorial service, that you might not want my reality to become yours." He gives me a sad smile. "I'm a lot to take on."

"You've said that before."

"Because it's true."

"You're right. It is true." There's no point lying about it. "And the past few weeks have been a shock. Huge reality check. But there wasn't a second that my feelings about you wavered." I sigh and push back in the seat. My hand tightens around Edward's, and he squeezes back. "But if I'm being honest, I did indulge in a full-on pity party at first. I was completely absorbed in me. Me, me." I make a gagging sound. "There were tears. I kept asking Alice why you had to go. Why this had to happen. When would you be back. I went on and on. Then I came to my senses." I look up and Edward's face is all horror and pain.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers.

"No!" I say quickly. "No. It's not your fault. I didn't mean...oh crap. I said too much, didn't I?" And now he'll wallow. I watch him closely. Watch as he processes all that I've told him. "I was just being pathetic for a while." I pause, waiting for his reaction. "We're strong enough for me to tell you this stuff, aren't we?"

Edward inhales deeply, quickly. Then he gives a nod of his head, and a faint smile. "We are," he says. "But you weren't being pathetic. You were working through it."

Relief flows through me, and I smile back. "Working through it? Yeah, well, you can call it that if you like."

He chuckles softly, darkly. "I can't believe you're here," he says.

The grin stretches across my face. "Are we ecstatic again, now?"

"We are. Now close your eyes."

"What...?"

"Your eyes," he smiles. "Close them."

I obey, and feel the car begin to slow as it takes a turn. I get the feeling we've gone off the road and onto a track. I'm bouncing and rocking in my seat.

"Too rough?" Edward asks.

"No. Why are my eyes closed?"

"So you get the full effect of the surprise."

"And where is the surprise?"

"It's everywhere."

"Well, that's very helpful, Edward. So I could have stayed in Portland and seen this surprise?"

He chuckles. "Not quite. It_ is_ everywhere, but we can't always see it properly. I'm taking you to a place where you can get its full effect." A moment later the car stills and the engine stops. Edward's voice is soft in my ear.

"You can look now."

We're in a vast, open space and my heart is thumping as I take in the scene before me. "Oh!...wow...Edward...just, wow..." The power of speech leaves me, and my breath catches in my chest, as I stare, wide-eyed.

The night sky is lit up with thousands and thousands of shimmering silver stars. No, it would have to be _millions_ of stars. Like the sky has been dusted with diamonds. "I want to get out and see." I want to be part of it. So I grab my gloves, pull my beanie down and my scarf up, tuck Edward's coat tighter around me, and reach for the door handle.

Edward's already there. Opening my door and lifting me into his arms. "Just for a moment," he says seriously, as he walks us a short distance from the car. "It's cold."

He's right, it is cold, but I barely notice. I'm too overwhelmed by the sky. It's everywhere. Above and behind and beside – it's all around us. There's a swooping feeling in my stomach. It's almost as if the world has dropped away, and now we're part of the heavens. No intrusion from the forest. No buildings. No competition from street lights and city neon. It's just sky, and us. If magic exists, then I've found it here.

In Edward's arms, nestled against his chest, watching the endless, starry sky, I wish I could capture this moment and keep it forever. "I don't want to move. I don't even want to blink. I never want to lose this."

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" There's a smile in Edward's voice. "When we lived in Alaska before, I used to come here and just sit for the night." He presses me closer. "I know we won't be together for Christmas, and I've not had the chance to get you the gift I'd planned, so I'm giving you this. The stars are yours. Merry Christmas, Bella."

My heart feels like it could burst. There's so much I want to say, but words don't seem enough. All I manage is a touch to Edward's cheek, and a whispered thank you. But I think he gets the idea.

He presses a kiss to my cheek. "The track ends back near the road, but can you see the mountain ahead?" I squint, and can just make out the faint, shadowy outline of a low range in the distance. I nod.

"I think so."

"At the foot of the mountain there's a lake and the reflection from the stars make the ice on its surface sparkle. The location is almost impossible for a human to access, but one day..."

"When I'm like you."

He smiles. "When you're like me."

He lowers his face and kisses me, his lips brushing softly, sweetly, over mine. The kiss ends when my teeth start to chatter. And now I notice the sting of cold against my face, despite the scarf. My body begins to tremble.

"Time to go," Edward says.

"Not yet. Just a bit longer."

"Bella..."

"Please?"

He makes a small huff of frustration. "How about I walk back to the car slowly?"

"Okay."

So he does. He takes slow backwards steps while I keep my eyes fixed on the view, drinking in every last star, burning this blazing, breathtaking image into my memory.

Edward keeps the headlights off as he reverses the car down the track and I watch as my Christmas present gradually disappears behind dense forest.

"We'll come back," I say. "And you'll show me the lake."

Edward takes my hand again. "I promise."

ooo

Doris is the manager of the Park Lodge Hotel, and she's annoyed that we've arrived so late, even though it's only eight o'clock. But Edward flashes his most dazzling smile, tells her in his smoothest voice how sorry we are, and a second later she's offering us complimentary breakfast to our room.

"You only booked for one person, though," she says, raising an eyebrow at me. "Should I make that a double booking? It adds thirty dollars to the price for each night."

I look at Edward. He hasn't actually mentioned how available he is. I don't know the current situation with Kim, yet. Does he have to go back tonight?

"It's a double booking," Edward smiles. "Two nights." His hand is resting on my back and it slowly slides lower. I feel a delicious clenching deep inside me. "And your best room, please."

"Oh, well now, that would be the Grand Mountain Suite. That'll put the price up again."

"Price doesn't matter." Edward hands over his sleek black credit card and Doris is beaming. I'm beaming too. _Two nights._ He can stay. His hand rubs slow circles over the small of my back and I lean into him.

Doris swipes Edward's card, tells us the restaurant is closed for the night but she can arrange something simple to be brought to us, then she holds up an envelope labelled with my name and arrival date. "I'll just put this old key back and get the new one," she says. As she disappears through a door marked 'office', Edward pulls me into his arms.

"You can stay," I whisper, smiling.

"I hope so," he says, and glances down where his phone makes an outline in the pocket of his jeans.

"Oh. They'll call if they need you?"

"I'm hoping it won't happen."

My excitement falters a little as I realise our reunion could end at any minute.

"How is Kim?" I ask, keeping my voice low. "I saw your family when they got back. Jasper said she's improving. Emmett thinks you might be home by New Years."

"She_ is_ improving," Edward says, thoughtfully. "But it's a slow process. I wish I could be as optimistic as Emmett, but I think New Years might be too soon." My heart sinks as disappointment flares through me, but I try not to show it. It's not all about me, after all. I'm sure Kim wishes things were different too. I'm sure she'd like to be home for Christmas and New Years with her family and friends.

"So, things aren't going as well as Jasper says?"

"They are, it's just..." He screws up his face. "She's still _so unpredictable_," he says, almost bewildered. "More than any other newborn I've seen. I thought Emmett was a handful, but _this_..." He lets out a slow breath and shakes his head. "Doris can't find the key," he says suddenly, nodding towards the office. "We're the only guests they have before they close down on Saturday and she thinks the day manager has already locked the other keys away in the safe. This could take a while." He leads me to a couple of comfy chairs that sit to the side of the reception area. "I'm so sorry," he says, taking my hand.

"About the key?"

Edward rolls his eyes. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do. And I also know you won't stay away any longer than you have to. It's not just me that wants you to come home, right?" I lean across and kiss his cheek. He smiles.

"No, not just you." He kisses my hand then shifts his chair closer so he can rest his head on my shoulder.

"Listening to my heart?"

He nods. I press my lips to the top of his head and we sit quietly for a moment. A heavy tiredness begins to steal over me and I yawn.

"It's been a long day for you," Edward says.

Very long. But worth it, to feel his head on my shoulder and his arm around me.

On the wall behind the reception desk is a huge, framed photo of snow-capped mountains rising out of a forest. A local shot, I'm assuming. I imagine myself running through those trees with Edward one day, keeping pace with him. I wonder if he runs through them now with Kim.

"What do you do to help her?" I ask.

"We talk," he says. "A lot. And we hunt every day. Usually in a group."

"But you're always part of the group?"

"So far, yes." He shifts his head, looking up at me with his beautiful amber eyes. "I'm the fastest. I'm the only one who can catch her if she tries to get away."

"Oh."

"And of course I can see where her thoughts are headed, so I'm usually able to talk her round before she runs, but sometimes..." He shrugs and doesn't finish, but I get the idea.

"Where does she want to run to?" Edward doesn't answer straight away, but his silence connects the dots for me. "To find humans?"

Edward nods again and lifts his head. He pulls his hands through his hair as he slumps down in his seat. "And then she hates herself for it."

"Poor Kim."

"But things _are_ getting better." Edward sighs. "From a psychology viewpoint, it's fascinating. The paper I could write..." He pauses and frowns. "We take a certain amount of ourselves with us when we change, and in Kim's case she's effectively become the thing she'd been taught to despise and fear while human. She's brought that hate with her. And she's become something that her soul mate is designed to destroy." A cold shiver snakes down my spine.

"Esme talked about that," I say.

Edward nods. "It's created a whole new, extra level of problems for her that most of us don't go through. She has so much _anger _about what's happened, and that anger seems to have fuelled her thirst and made it stronger. I've never seen blood lust like it."

It's a chilling picture Edward paints, and no matter how I try I can't imagine kind, sweet Kim this way. I don't think I want to.

"But her thoughts are becoming less violent since we've been here," Edward goes on. "Carmen, Eleazer and the others have been very helpful. She's connecting well with Kate."

Kate.

"Um, has that been awkward?" They'd nearly taken their friendship further, and now he knows she'd lied to him. Her and her family – they all had.

Edward gives the vaguest of shrugs as his posture stiffens. "There hasn't been much time for awkward," he says. "But we've had a conversation." His voice has become formal, cool. He shoots me a cautious look. "She and her family, they're all sorry. But Kate especially." He shrugs again, but his body seems to relax now. "There's no point to me being angry. Their lies came from a misguided belief it was for the best. Like my own family. And I can see now that Kate wasn't trying to take advantage; she was trying to be a good friend. It was me who thought of making it more, and she believed I was developing new feelings for her." He gives me an apologetic smile. "But it was only to fill the hole you'd left, though I didn't realise it at the time."

I smile and squeeze his hand. "I'd made a lasting impression."

"That you did." He squeezes back. "I'm just glad I realised it felt wrong, before I did anything I'd regret."

So am I.

"So you're okay now? You and Kate?"

"We're okay."

There's a noise from the office. Some muttering. Doris is obviously having trouble finding the key. "Do you think we should just take the Budget Room I'd originally booked?"

"No," he says, smiling. "I don't." He tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "We have two days. We make the most of it."

Just two days. My thoughts drift back to why we're here.

"How's Jared?" I ask. How's he doing?" Edward sighs.

"He loves Kim," Edward says simply. "And that's overriding everything else. He doesn't care about who she is now, he just cares that she's unhappy and angry. That's what's killing him. But she loves him, too. They'll find a way to make this work. They _want _to make it work."

I run my fingers over the back of Edward's hand, tracing the pale blue vein that runs from his ring finger to his wrist. "I don't really understand why Jasper came home," I say. "I know Alice said you can only modify someone's moods for so long and they have to learn control on their own, and I get that, but if Kim's so erratic, wouldn't this be the time when Jasper is really needed?"

Edward frowns. "Jasper can modify Kim's emotions, but as an empath he also absorbs them. He takes on some of what she's feeling. And with someone whose newborn blood lust is so extreme..."

"Oh..." The picture becomes crystal clear.

"He_ had_ _to_ leave."

My hand stills on Edward's. My mind tumbles with thoughts and questions and fears, all shouting for attention.

"Bella? I've said too much?"

"No." I shake my head. "I'm just thinking."

"What?"

"Edward, what if I'm like Kim when I change?" My words come suddenly, without permission, giving voice to the fear that has been gnawing at me for weeks now. I bite my lip as if I could take them back. Edward blinks like he hasn't understood. "I, um, heard her in the background the night you left that voicemail on my phone." Even now I can't keep from shuddering a little, and realisation dawns on Edward's features.

"I don't think you will be." His answer comes so swiftly and confidently, it surprises me. My jagged thoughts scatter and fade as he explains. "You're situation is entirely different. You're going into the change willingly, it's an informed decision. You're comfortable with my kind already and you'll understand the decision you're making. I think that will make a huge difference."

"Really?"

"Based on my experiences, the things I've seen, yes. Although, it still won't be easy." He takes my hand, stroking his thumb over my skin gently. "But I'll be there every second to help you through it."

I know he will. I look at his hand in mine. He's both the strongest, and gentlest person I know – he'll never let me hurt anyone. Now he kisses me softly, but pulls back slowly before I've had enough, placing one last peck at the corner of my mouth. "Doris has found the key," he says.

At last. "Good."

"Bella?"

"Yes?"

He presses his forehead to mine. "I know you might have questions, and I'll answer anything you ask, but if we can make these two days about us, and not talk anymore about why I'm here..."

"You'll get no arguments from me." I smile and push his hair back from his face, tracing his cheekbone, and then running my finger along his bottom lip. "None at all."

His eyes darken. He makes to kiss me again, but stops suddenly with a groan. He gives me a wistful smile, then stands, just as Doris appears.

"Here it is," she says, holding up the key. "Now, let me show you to your room."

ooo

For a 3-star hotel, their Grand Mountain Suite is actually a lot nicer than I'd expected and Doris makes sure to show us every detail. Edward leans casually against the small dining table while we listen to Doris list all the features of the suite, and then I politely follow her from the large living area with comfy sofa and huge flat screen tv, to the spacious bedroom with four-poster bed and panoramic view of nearby mountains. Doris points out the fancy soaps and lotions in the all-white bathroom and the tub that's big enough for two. It's all very nice, but I wonder how much longer the tour will last because right now I just want to be alone with Edward.

Back in the living area, Edward hasn't moved. He seems relaxed enough, but his fingers tap softly on the top of the table as he leans back against it. His eyes follow my every move. He quirks a brow as Doris sticks her head in the mini bar, recites the list of contents, and asks if we're over twenty-one. "We won't be drinking," he says politely.

"Oh, okay, then," Doris smiles. "Now, we have cable, and a selection of DVDs at reception." She picks up the remote from the coffee table. "I'll just show you how..."

"That's fine," Edward says. "We can take it from here."

"But it can be tricky finding the right..."

"We've already taken enough of your time." Edward gives Doris another dazzling smile. "I'd never forgive myself for keeping you from the rest of your evening." She gives an almost girlish giggle, asks what time we'd like breakfast, and then, finally, she leaves. I shut the door behind her, then turn to Edward.

"I'm guessing this suite is a lot nicer than the Budget Backpacker Room I'd booked. Thank you."

Edward pushes off from the table, dismissing my thanks with a shake of his head and a slow smile. But there's something in that smile. And in his eyes. My stomach tightens and my skin tingles. Edward comes towards me; slow steps, too smooth to be human. A shiver runs along my spine. My heart hammers in my chest. He hooks a finger in the belt loop of my jeans and pulls me to him. "I don't think I've told you yet how much I've missed you, Bella." He lowers his face, runs his nose over my throat. "Missed having your scent on me."

Oh, God, my heart might explode. My knees buckle but he catches round the waist with his arm. He lifts his face, his burning eyes devour mine. I wrap my arms around him, press myself against hard him, and kiss him with everything I have. Edward responds, his lips moving urgently with mine as he lifts me and carries me swiftly into the bedroom.

I don't get the chance to undress him. Somehow his clothes are just a pile on the floor, quickly joined by mine, and then we tumble onto the bed. Edward's lips make a hot trail over my neck and breasts, his hands gripping my hips like he'll never let go. He slides into me and I moan his name. He buries his face in my neck as he begins to move. It's not sweet or romantic, but a deep, pounding rhythm, fuelled by frantic, burning need. A rhythm that has me panting, clutching at him. His fingers claw at the sheets as his body charges to a shattering climax that brings me with him. I cry out, arching against him. He roars my name as he stiffens, and shatters above me. Then, with a deep groan, he collapses on the bed beside me. The sheet billows up around us. Edward curls a gentle arm around me, pulling me close against his trembling body. "Oh God, Bella," he whispers. "I love you."

ooo

"It has its own library?" I stare at Edward in wonder as we sit on the floor, facing each other across the coffee table. Pale winter-morning sunlight struggles through the window.

"It could be a library," he grins. "Or a second study. Another guest room. Whatever we want."

The table top is scattered with papers and I look again at the floor plan that Edward has sketched out on complimentary hotel letterhead. "The master bedroom overlooks the woods behind the house," he says. "There's a creek, just beyond the trees, and you can hear it." He grabs the pencil and adds some trees to the plan. "And the location means I don't have to travel too far away from you to hunt."

"This is what you wanted to talk to me about the night Jake arrived?" I remember the discussion about houses, and the paper he'd held in his hand.

Edward nods. "I got interrupted."

"Interrupted? Edward sometimes you are a master of understatement." I pick up the real estate brochure for 1222 Bowery Lane, that sits beside the floor plan. It shows several photos of a two-storey house on five acres of secluded, wooded land on the outskirts of Portland.

"It needs some updating," Edward goes on. "A new kitchen. Definitely new paint."

"Oh, I don't know. I've always like the idea of a lime green bedroom."

"Really?" Edward arches a brow. A smirk tugs at his lips. "I haven't."

"No?" I giggle.

"No." The smirk breaks free. "But of course you can keep the lime green walls if you want." He doodles absently on his floor plan. "And while you're enjoying them, I'll be in the bedroom down the hall. Just knock twice if you want me."

The laughter bursts out of me, and Edward grins. "And what colour will _your _bedroom be, Edward?"

He pretends to consider, staring thoughtfully at the brochure. "Not lime green," he finally says, and I dissolve in giggles again. "Colour scheme aside, the house is structurally sound, it's been well-maintained and it has good proportions. The plumbing works fine and so does the heating."

"I like the staircase." I go back to studying the brochure. "And your black sofa would fit perfectly there, in that alcove off the main bedroom." I can see him lying there, beneath the window, reading. Or with his eyes closed, stretched out, listening to his music. "And I love the windows, they're all so huge."

"To let in lots of light." Edward smiles and I grin back at him.

"How far from your family's house?"

"Five minute drive." His smile fades and now he looks wary. "Too close?"

"No, it's fine," I laugh. And if I'm honest, I'm glad we won't be sharing with his family. I love them all, but I'd prefer it to just be Edward and me, without six pairs of supernatural ears hearing every sound we make. But now I wonder... "Um, will we live with them other times? When we have to leave Portland?"

"No," he says. There's a flicker of something in his features, but I can't quite catch it.

"You don't want to live with them anymore?"

He shrugs and rests back on his hands, legs stretched out under the coffee table. His toes nudge mine. "I'm starting a new life. With you. They'll always be my family and we'll always live close by, but I want us to have our own place, wherever we go." He gives me a crooked smile as I smile too. "If you're agreeable."

"Sounds good to me."

I trace my fingers over the photo of the spacious kitchen. The living room has a window seat in the huge bay-window. There's an open fire place. "So you like it?" Edward asks.

"I love it."

"I thought you would." His voice is excited. "We can live there until it's time to move on, but it's location, and the style of house, means we can keep coming back to it and live there again and again over the years. If you want, I can contact the agent and arrange a viewing for you next week."

I'd like to view the house _with_ Edward, but I also know that waiting could mean someone else buys it. Thoughts of us walking through empty rooms together, holding hands and pointing out where we'd put the sofa and the tv and the piano, begin to fade. The romance gives way to reality and practicality. "That sounds like a good idea," I say. "Actually, if you give me the number I'll call them when I get back. It'll be easier if I organise a viewing time myself." Edward nods and picks up his phone. His thumb moves swiftly over the keypad, texting me the details, while I do a quick mental check of next week's schedule. It's not good. With classes, work, and the extra shifts to make up for the ones I'm missing while here, it'll be Sunday _next week_ before I can take a look.

Nine days away.

I feel a spark of panic. Nine days. Still enough time for someone else to buy. And if Edward is out of range when I see it and I can't give him the go ahead...

"On second thought, lets do it now."

"Now?" Edward looks up from his phone sharply. "Without you seeing it?"

"You think the house is right for us, don't you? And from what you've told me, and this very detailed floor plan you've drawn, _and _the brochure, I'm sure I'll love it too." Honestly, just seeing the excitement on his face as he talked about it is enough for me. "Lets buy it."

Now his face is quite blank. "You'd agree to buy a house sight unseen?"

"I've seen it through your eyes. That's enough. I trust you. I trust your judgement and I've made my decision."

His eyes spark and a slow smile curves on his lips. He reaches for his phone again while his big toe runs over the sole of my foot. I giggle, and jerk away. He grins as he types.

"What are you doing?"

"Sending an email to the agent. I'm making an offer."

The grin stretches wide across my face. I look back at the picture of the kitchen. "Red and black countertops," I murmur. "Looks like a checkers board. That'll have to go."

"It's better than the bedroom," Edward mutters as he sets the phone down again.

I shoot him a sceptical look. "Really? You think it's that bad? So if I decide not to repaint the bedroom, you'd never come in? I don't know what to think about that."

Edward's lips twitch. He shakes his head as he gives me a bone-melting look. "Oh, Bella," he says. "I think we both know that nothing will keep me away from you." His foot inches its way further up my leg. "Not even lime green walls."

"Yeah?"

He smiles. "I'll just keep my eyes shut."

ooo

The tourist trails are closed. Most of the shops in town have shut up for the winter. So when I want to stretch my legs we go and build snowmen in the park across the road from the hotel. Of course, Edward's snowman is perfect; head and body completely spherical and in proportion with each other. Mine looks like, well, I don't know, really. Maybe a small blob of snow on top of a bigger blob of snow?

"How come yours looks like a Michelangelo sculpture, and mine looks like...this?" I wave a hand at my version of Frosty as Edward chuckles.

"Yours is different," he says. "He has character."

"Actually, you're right. You've gone for the cliché while mine is a creative interpretation of a snowman. It's innovative and imaginative." As I say this, the head of my creative interpretation falls off and onto the ground. I blink at it and ignore Edward's laughter. "That was meant to happen," I say. "Performance art." Edward is doubled over, his whole body shaking with laughs. I roll my eyes, pick up a handful of snow, pack it into a rough ball, and throw it at him. It's flying straight for his bowed head, but without even looking he holds up a hand and my snowball explodes into nothing against his palm. A few flakes from the fallout settle in his hair – that's something, I suppose. I think about trying again, but my fingers are starting to numb, despite the thick, snow-proof gloves we bought from the small hotel shop. It was closed, but Doris opened up especially for Edward. That's why I'm also wearing fur-lined snowboots and a padded goose-down jacket with an arctic weather rating that's so puffy it makes me feel like the Michelin man. It has cost Edward a small fortune so we could play outside for half an hour. And even so, I'm starting to feel the chill seep beyond the fur and goose-down. Suddenly I wish I was somewhere warm. Someplace where I can feel the sun on my skin. A place where I can comfortably put my arms down by my sides. My mind floods with images of white sand and aqua water. Edward is still chuckling as he comes towards me.

"I found the bikini." Where the heck did that come from? Crap! My hands fly to my mouth as Edward stops walking. His eyes widen.

"You've been in the drawer?"

"Not to snoop," I say quickly. "I wanted to wear one of your t-shirts to bed."

"Oh."

What do I say now? He's looking at me, surprise still etched on his face. But there's some uncertainty there, too. "I'm guessing it's for me? The bikini?"

"Do you like it?"

"Yes."

"Then it's for you."

"Oh!" A giggle escapes me. "And if I didn't you'd give it to someone else?" I try to sound offended, but fail. Edward shrugs, and affects an exaggerated air of casualness. Laughing, I bend to grab another handful of snow, but in the blink of an eye, Edward is standing in front of me, taking my hands in his.

"I'm glad you like it," he says smoothly in a voice that makes me feel warm again. My heart flutters softly as I stare into his darkening eyes.

"I love the colour."

"I thought it would look beautiful on you."

"It's very small. Tiny, even."

Edward leans in close, running his nose along my jaw. "It is small," he says. "It's a honeymoon present."

My breathing hitches. "So, we'll be honeymooning somewhere warm, then?" He nods. "Where?"

"It's a surprise."

"But somewhere you can sparkle in private?"

He chuckles, a low, deep chuckle that seems to travel through me. "Mm...somewhere private, where my eyes are the only ones to admire you in your bikini. Bella?"

"Yes?"

He swings me up into his arms and starts striding through the snow, back towards the hotel. "I don't want to build snowmen anymore."

ooo

The bath water is deliciously warm and I slide deeper into the tub. Edward sits on the edge of the bath, a towel slung casually round his hips. My whole body still tingles from our love making. In the water I feel feather-light and floaty.

"I like making love in the bath." I run my hand over Edward's towel-clad thigh. "The house in Portland, is it's bath big enough for two?"

"Doesn't matter if it isn't," Edward says. "It will be before we move in." I giggle and splash him. He scowls.

"Your hair's wet."

"I'm not surprised." He pushes some strands out of his eyes.

"It was wet before I splashed you."

"That doesn't surprise me either." His gaze drifts to the bathroom floor, awash with water. "We made quite a mess." Then he shakes his head, showering me with drops of water, making me laugh even more. "Okay, okay, enough!"

He stops and grabs a towel from the rail. He holds it up for me. "_It's a Wonderful Life_ starts in five minutes. Do you still want to watch it?"

ooo

We sit on the sofa together, each of us dressed in a fluffy white bath robe. I'm nursing a hot chocolate while Edward nurses my feet in his lap. On the television, George Bailey has just wished he'd never been born.

"So this movie is a Christmas tradition for you?" Edward asks and I nod. It's a favourite, the story of George, and Clarence the angel who is yet to earn his wings.

"Renee and I watched it together every year when I was a kid. Even last year in Florida." I take a long sip of chocolate. "It doesn't feel like Christmas unless I watch it."

"You could buy the DVD."

I shake my head. "It's not the same if you can just watch it any old time." Edward chuckles softly. He runs a gentle hand along my leg. I watch his fingers make slow spirals on my skin. On the tv, George has just had his wish granted by Clarence. "What about you?" I ask. "Do you have Christmas traditions? What's a Cullen Christmas like?" He tickles softly behind my knee.

"You've asked me this before," he says, eyes twinkling.

"I know. But that was before you knew that I knew who you were." He quirks an eyebrow and I roll my eyes. "You know what I mean. And anyway, you kept your answer very neutral."

"That's because there's not much to tell. Tree. Presents. Alice goes over the top with decorations; lights, tinsel, candles. There's a different theme every year. Last year everything was white, silver and blue." He cocks his head. "Where will you spend Christmas this year? My family would love to have you there."

"Not without you," I say firmly. "I'll go to Charlie this year." I shift a little, settling myself more comfortably. "Do you open presents on Christmas morning? Or Christmas eve?"

"Esme likes me to play the piano on Christmas eve. Carols she likes and remembers from her human time. Presents get opened Christmas morning. Under the tree." A trace of mischief flashes through his eyes. "And then we go out for Christmas lunch together."

For a brief second I'm confused. But just for a second. "Oh. You hunt together? All of you?"

He nods. "We don't usually go as a group. Only for Christmas and Thanksgiving. Then, afterwards, I usually go to my room to listen to music and read and get away from Emmett and his joke presents."

"Sounds like a real family Christmas."

"In some ways, I suppose." A soft frown shadows his features. He turns back to the television. George is learning what the world would have been like without him. His brother has just fallen through the ice with no-one to save him. His wife is a sad old-maid. "It's mostly down to Alice and Esme," Edward says after a while. "Without them I don't think the rest of us would bother, to be honest."

"Really?"

He shakes his head. "At least, not with the same enthusiasm. And for me, sometimes Christmas has felt like a hollow gesture, like we're play-acting, trying to hang on to our human pasts." He watches his hand on my leg, then lifts his eyes to mine. "But this Christmas would have been different. For the first time in almost a hundred years it would have felt real, and I was looking forward to celebrating. With you. Maybe that's the difference, having someone in your life to celebrate with." His perfect lips curve in a sad smile. "I'm sorry about Christmas, Bella. And the wedding."

"Hey, that's enough," I say quickly. "You've given me the stars. And the wedding will happen. And there'll be next Christmas. We'll choose a tree together and put it by that fireplace. And there'll be presents. Lots of presents. You'd better start making your list now so I have time to save up, okay?"

His lips hint at a smile. "Okay."

"Sounds good?"

"Sounds great." He smiles properly now, a happy grin that lights up his face.

George Bailey's running down the street, laughing, rejoicing, returned to life and wishing Merry Christmas to everyone and everything in sight. Edward massages my feet as I sink deeper into the cushions. Then he tugs on my big toe playfully. "March twelfth," he says quietly. My head snaps up. His eyes are bright.

"March twelfth?"

"Do you remember?"

"That was the day you took me to the meadow for the first time."

"It was the day I kissed you for the first time. The day I rested my head against your heart and felt it's beat."

"It's the day I knew there was no turning back."

He swallows. "It's the day I came alive." A tender smile dawns across his face. "You wanted a special date for our wedding. I'm proposing March twelfth."

Tears are pricking at my eyes. "Perfect."

He leans forward and kisses me, just as George hears bells ringing, and Clarence the angel gets his wings.

ooo

The agent says the owners of the house are out of town. He'll try to contact them, but we should know that another party is also ready to make an offer.

"Oh no!" My stomach knots as Edward reads the email to me. I set aside my dinner plate as my appetite vanishes. "We can't have the house?"

"Don't worry," says Edward. His thumbs are a blur as he responds to the email.

"Why not? What are you doing?"

"Telling him that I'll better whatever offer the others have made."

"But, we don't know what they've offered! It could be so much more!"

"Doesn't matter," Edward says, smiling smugly. "You've seen my bank account, and that house is ours, Bella. I promise you."

ooo

The endless, starry sky surrounds us once again. Snuggled in my new snow clothes, and the even newer thermal blanket, I sit curled up in Edward's lap while he sits on the hood of the car.

"Thanks for bringing me back here. I just wanted to see it one more time before I go."

I feel Edward's arms flex around me. "My pleasure." He chuckles softly. "It's not exactly a hardship to be here with you, Bella. I just don't want you to be cold."

"I'm not." Not right now, anyway. But I know it will come and then we'll have to leave. "I can't believe this time tomorrow I'll be back in Portland."

"Don't think about it," Edward says. "I'm not." But I know he is. I can hear the hint of sadness in his voice.

The stars sparkle above us, some brighter than others, and I feel like I could lose myself in them. "Did you used to come here a lot?" I ask.

"Yes." He nuzzles his nose against the small strip of my cheek that is exposed between my hood and my scarf. "Despite what I might have thought about myself, and what I'd become, coming here and looking at the stars always made me feel that I was still a part of something."

"Puts things in perspective?"

"I think so."

I snuggle closer as I keep my eyes on the sky, not wanting to miss a second of the view. "You know that spare room in the house? The one that could be a library or a second study?"

"Yes."

I turn my face to his. "I'm thinking it could be a nursery."

The gentle surprise in Edward's eyes is beautiful to see. "A nursery?"

"Uh huh." I feel the smile stretch across my face. My heart swells in my chest. "If that's okay with you."

He gives a small, disbelieving shake of his head. "After these past few weeks I'm just happy you still want forever. I didn't dare presume you'd still..."

I reach up to touch his cheek with a clumsy, gloved hand. "You can presume."

I think Edward's smile might be brighter than the stars. "A nursery it is, then," he says. And then he kisses me.

ooo

The last call for my flight crackles over the airport tannoy.

"I'll come home as soon as I can," Edward whispers. "I'll text whenever I have a phone signal." I nod, my head buried in his chest as he holds me close. Holds me like he'll never let go. I want to say so much, but I can't find the words. So I just stay close, and hold him like he holds me. Sometimes there's no need for words.

The tannoy barks again. They're starting to close the gates. I kiss Edward hard and then I'm walking past the check-in counter and through the gates. When I turn for one last wave, Edward is there, crooked smile in place. He mouths "I love you" and as the flight attendant ushers me away I see he's clutching my bookmark in his hand.

ooo

The Drum is busy for a Sunday, thanks to the Christmas crowds. We've sold out of _Wiggly Wiggly Christmas, _there's been a run on guitars and harmonicas, I'm getting low on electric organs and it's barely 10am.

The crowds ebb and flow. There's a lull around 11.30, when Alice appears at my counter. I've kind of been expecting her.

"Hi," I say brightly, trying to ignore her piercing glare. "You got my text?"

"The one you sent last night when you arrived back from _Alaska_ without telling anyone you were going in the first place?"

"That's the one," I smile.

She throws up her hands. "Honestly, Bella, how could you do that? Running off to the wilds without a word to anyone? Do you know how dangerous..." I hold up my hand, stopping her.

"Your brother has already made the risks clear, and you're only annoyed that you didn't _see _me do it." Her scowl becomes a sulky pout and I know I'm right. "And anyway, if I remember right, you and Jasper had gone off for some alone time together. I'm assuming you had other things on your mind apart from me."

If Alice could blush I think she might be beetroot red, right about now. She fiddles with the service bell on the counter. "You still should have told someone," she says. "We all thought you just wanted space and time to yourself."

"I did want time to myself. With Edward. And I got myself there and back without incident." I hold out my hands wide. "See? All in one piece."

"I see," she says. At last she smiles. "He would have been glad to see you."

"He was." I smile back, but it's a shaky smile. "He won't be back by New Year, though."

A look of understanding crosses Alice's face. "I'm not really surprised," she says gently. "These things can be hard to predict. Especially in Kim's case."

We're interrupted by a customer wanting to buy a tambourine. Alice steps aside. Then the line grows as other customers come to purchase. I see Alice grab a nearby trombone and join the queue.

"Really?" I say when it's her turn.

"I've always wanted to learn," she says. "Oh, and can I have it gift-wrapped, please?" She turns and smiles sweetly at the people lined up behind her. There's grumbling, but Amaranthe appears at the second register and the line shifts. I send her a grateful smile and turn back to Alice, ready to make a smart remark about her sudden interest in horns.

"At least you got back before the snowstorm," she says, before I even open my mouth.

"Storm?" Something tugs at the edge of my memory. That conversation in the car. I thought Edward had been exaggerating to make a point. "There really is a storm?"

Alice nods. "A blizzard. It hit last night and it's growing and there's another one's brewing," she says. "It could go on for days, so if you'd left it until today to come back, you would have been stuck."

"Edward said there were storms predicted for next week. Not last night."

"Things change," Alice says dismissively. "Weather is unpredictable."

Edward said that, too.

"Will he be alright?"

A flare of panic shoots through me and it must show on my face. "He'll be fine," Alice says quickly. She seems almost puzzled by my concern. "Honestly. Blizzards are nothing new to Edward. To any of us. When we lived in Alaska Emmett and Jasper and Edward used to go outside in the storms and see who could throw a baseball furthest against the wind. Emmett usually won."

It's a bizarre image, but it does make me feel a little better. I remind myself that Edward doesn't feel the cold. He can't freeze. His skin is like granite. And the Denali's have a house.

But still.

"What about Jared?"

"With that thick coat? He'll be fine too. He can always stay inside if he wants to."

I suppose so.

"The worst of it," Alice goes on, "is that everyone will be out of contact for a while. The storms play havoc with communications, signals go down, and people can be cut off for days."

My heart sinks a little.

Days.

Alice puts a gentle hand on mine. "He knows you're back here?"

"Yes. We texted last night."

"Then right now he'll be relieved and happy you're safe, and not hunkered down, shivering in a hotel or an airport somewhere, surviving on stale vending machine snacks and water from bathroom taps. Think of that."

She's right. I'll think of that. "He said he was out of range a lot of the time, anyway, so communication was always going to be a problem."

She nods. "That's true. He _would_ be out of range a lot, anyway."

"So, I guess I'll try not to worry."

"Good!" She beams at me.

I finish gift wrapping her trombone and hold it out to her. She thanks me, and as I swipe her card she asks if I'm spending Christmas with Charlie. I tell her yes.

"What about New Years?" she asks. "Jasper and I were planning to watch the fireworks from the top of the Wells Fargo Center. The view's great."

"They let people up there?"

"No," she giggles. "But we have ways. So, you'll come for a Cullen New Year? Wear dark clothes."

I smile but shake my head. "Not without Edward." It wouldn't feel right, celebrating a Cullen New Year, without my favourite Cullen.

I expect Alice to argue, and am surprised when she doesn't. There's understanding in her eyes. "The offer's there if you change your mind," she says. "What will you do?"

"Actually, I'm working here until 4.00. And then Alison has invited me to a party at her place. There's going to be live music. And a climbing wall." She practically ambushed me this morning, insisted it was going to be the _best party ever_ and that I _had to come_. "I thought I might go for a while." Maybe.

ooo

Later that night I look up the Denali weather report. It seems the last lot of storms in the area lasted five days, on and off. Eight feet of snow fell. Phone lines were out for over two weeks. These new storms look like they could do the same. I pull the covers tighter around me as I fall asleep, clutching my phone, imaging Edward throwing baseballs in the snow.

ooo

I wonder about the house at 1222 Bowery Lane. The storm struck so soon after I left Denali, and Edward hadn't heard back from the agent at the time I boarded the plane. He mightn't have had a chance to do anything before the lines went down.

I spend the next couple of days debating with myself. Do I call the agent and ask? Sometimes I even pick up the phone and dial, but I always hang up before it's answered. It's like holding an envelope from the college admissions office, and being too scared to open it.

On Wednesday I give in, leave class early, and head out of Portland to find Bowery Lane. It's a long, windy and narrow road, skirting the edge of thick woods. Only the occasional road-side mailbox tells me where a house might be.

Finally, I come round a bend and see a red mailbox marked with 1222. Beside the mailbox is a For Sale sign. Across the sign is a wide sticker declaring it SOLD. My heart leaps and I start to laugh, until I realise I don't know who bought it. Edward? Or the other party? Now my heart sinks, my laughter fades and I wish I hadn't come.

Should I call the agent and ask? I reach for my phone and stop. Either way, I want to hear the news from Edward. So I turn the car around and head back to my apartment. On the way I tell myself there will be another house, maybe a better house. Perhaps 1222 wasn't meant to be. Things happen for a reason. I didn't like the kitchen counter tops, anyway.

ooo

Christmas with Charlie is quiet, as usual. There's a small plastic tree with the ornaments I remember from childhood visits and he waits for me to arrive on Christmas eve so we can decorate together. Well, he hands me the baubles while I place them on the branches. Later, when I curl up in bed, I keep imaging Edward arriving suddenly, unannounced, to surprise me. But of course, I know he won't. Even so, I sleep with my window open a crack.

We spend Christmas day eating ham and turkey, and I read the book Charlie's given me, and he assembles the new foldable fishing rod I bought for him. I call Renee. I tell her and Charlie our new wedding date and for a moment I'm swept up in excitement. My dad seems genuinely pleased we're back on track. Renee squeals down the phone. And I wish so much that Edward was here to share it with me.

Sue comes over in the evening. When Charlie goes outside for firewood, we ask each other for news from Alaska, but neither of us has anything to share. The storms in Denali have calmed, but the phone signals are still down. According to news reports, the terrain and snow have made repairs difficult and dangerous. There's been no word from anyone.

ooo

New Years Eve is much quieter at The Drum. Alison is at home, preparing for the party. Scott is in Mexico with friends. It's just Amaranthe and me and the occasional customer.

She sits on the counter, swinging her legs, examining her purple finger nails. I keep checking my phone. Just in case. Even though the signals are still down, two weeks later. "You going to Alison's party?" Amaranthe asks.

"I don't know. Maybe. What about you?"

"No," she says. "I'm going to a club. You could come if you want."

"Would I have to dress like a Goth?"

"You wouldn't have to. But I could help you out if you did. You have great skin for it." I laugh and touch my cheek. I suppose I have. "Is Edward still snowed in?" she asks. I've told people he went to Alaska to spend Christmas with his cousins, and got stuck.

"Yep." I join her, sitting on the counter, and swing my legs too. "There was another storm a couple of days ago. They're saying it's the worst season on record." And I'm starting to wonder if he'll even make it for March 12th. Whether Kim is okay or not.

"Fucking global warming," Amaranthe mutters. "I hope Edward gets on well with his family. I'd go crazy if I was snowbound with mine." She shudders.

"They get on fine," I say. "I wasn't expecting him until sometime in January, anyway." Or February.

The door opens and my head snaps up. A young couple comes in and Amaranthe goes to help them. I tidy the things under the counter.

"I think we should just close up," Amaranthe says after the couple have bought some replacement guitar strings and left. "It's almost 4.00 and they're the only customers we've had since lunchtime."

"You go," I say. "I'll close up."

"Seriously?"

"Sure."

"What about the club? I could pick you up around ten?"

"Maybe next year," I say.

She gives me a soft smile. "You miss him."

"Yeah."

"Hey, you could bring him next year. I know I've said it before, but Edward would make a great Goth."

I smile. "I'm sure he would."

She smiles too, wishes me a happy new year, and tells me to call her if I change my mind about the club. Then she grabs her coat and as the door bangs behind her, I'm left alone in the store.

It's still twenty minutes to closing time, and though I'm alone and missing Edward, I refuse to let my situation make me miserable. So I put on a CD of dance music and turn the speakers up loud.

I'm not a natural dancer, but I sort of shuffle and shimmy my way around the store, tidying things here and there, re-arranging CDs that people have moved out of place. How Willie Nelson ended up in the Abba section, I have no idea. While I work, I sing along with the music and I think of all the positives I've got going on. I have two party invitations for tonight. Three if I count the fireworks with Alice and Jasper. My wedding is less than three months away. I might, or might not, be part owner of a house, and if not, then Edward and I can have a lot of fun looking together for another one. I'm loved by the most beautiful man, inside and out, that has ever existed. And for Christmas he gave me the stars.

I'm not doing too badly, really.

The CD ends and I choose another one. An 80s English band, Madness. Edward introduced me to them. The music starts and the first track is _It Must Be Love._ I smile and sing along and notice that someone has shoved the wrapper from a chocolate bar into one of the guitars. Part of it is sticking out of the sound hole. I shake my head, amazed at the things some people will do, as I make my way over to the instrument aisle.

I'm about to pluck the wrapper from the guitar, when I notice something else. Something on the floor at the end of the aisle. Something that can't be what it looks like.

My bookmark.

Lying there on the carpet, just like that evening at the library.

My heart speeds as I approach it slowly, cautiously, almost like it's a frightened animal. I pick it up and yes, it's mine. Same narrow tan strip of leather. Same Celtic design. Same small inked B on the back. My skin tingles. My hands are shaking as I lift my eyes and there he is.

Edward Cullen is standing at the end of the instrument aisle. Smiling.

I can't believe he's here. I stare and I stare, thinking I must be imagining him. But I'm not. He comes towards me slowly, his smile widening to a grin. In the background, Madness are singing that it must be love, love, love.

I'm smiling too. Tears spill onto my cheeks as I hold out my trembling hand. The bookmark lies across my palm. Just like that first night...

He shakes his head. His hand grasps mine gently, and he curls my fingers back over the leather strip. "It was a keepsake," he says. "I don't need it anymore." Then he pulls me into his arms. "I'm never going to need it again."

The significance of his words hits me hard and the happy tears flow harder. Edward brushes them from my cheeks, then he kisses me.

What a kiss.

It's full of love and reunion. It's a promise that this is just the beginning of so much more. It's a kiss that sweeps me up till my legs are weak, and I'm boneless against him.

I can't believe he's real. Can't believe he's here. My arms snake around his neck as he pulls me harder against him. "I love you," he whispers when he pulls back.

It takes me a moment to catch my breath as I nestle my head against his chest. "I love you too. Why are you here?"

He throws his head back and the laughter rumbles deep in his chest. It's beautiful to hear. And see. "What a welcome," he says, and I giggle.

"You know what I mean."

We stand there in each other's arms, amongst the guitars and violins, music playing, smiling at each other.

"Jared was injured during the storms," Edward says quietly. His hand smooths over my back slowly. "Not badly. He misjudged a jump and landed badly. He broke some bones."

"But he's okay?" I remember how fast wolves heal. I've seen it with Jake more than once.

"He was fine. The bones repaired in a couple of days and he was back to himself. But Kim was beside herself. She insisted on being the one to care for him. She bandaged him. Sat with him. She prepared his food."

I can see where this is going. "She got back in touch with her human side?" Edward nods, smiling.

"It happened just before Christmas," he said. "The improvement after that was remarkable. She still has a way to go, but she doesn't need me anymore. So yesterday I said goodbye."

"But the blizzard? The snow?" He waves a dismissive hand, and I realise now, he ran through the storm to get here.

My face almost hurts with my smile. "That's wonderful news."

"It is." Edward tangles his hand in my hair. "For them. And me." He kisses me again, softer this time. Slowly. Making me shivery. "It's New Years Eve," he whispers against my lips. "I realise you might have plans. I'd hate to interrupt them."

"No," I sigh as his mouth blazes a trail over my neck. "Nothing I can't cancel."

He chuckles. "In that case, I have a suggestion."

"Mm..."

He pulls back a little, then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a key. He holds it up. On the tag is written _1222 Bowery Lane._

"Oh!"

I gasp, not just at the sight of the key, but at the brilliant joy that lights up Edward's face. At the future I see in his eyes, and feel in my heart.

"Come on, Bella," he says, and takes my hand. "Lets go home."

ooo

**A/N: This is the last chapter of The Keepsake. There will be an epilogue sometime in the New Year, where we'll see a little way into the future.**

**Thank you to everyone who's stuck with me and kept reading, even when updates have sometimes been so long coming. And thank you for your reviews and messages, they truly mean so much to me and I appreciate them more than I can say :)**

**Thank you Melanie, my dear friend and beta-extraordinaire (note: only part of this chapter has been beta'd, so any mistakes are mine). Melanie has published a novel. It's called ****_Into The Storm_**** by Melanie Moreland. It's available on Amazon and is a wonderful read. I'd recommend you check it out :)**

**If you're feeling a bit romantic, I posted a Christmas outtake from my novel, ****_Over The Edge,_**** on my blog. So if you'd like to see what Angus and Zoe got up to on their first Christmas together, you can read it here... w w w dot suzannecarroll dot com . It's called ****_Surfboards and Sleighbells: An Over The Edge Christmas Outtake._**

**If you're interested, you can follow me on twitter, suzanne_carroll and on my Facebook author page where I'm Suzanne Carroll, Writer. **

**Madness are a great band. If you haven't heard ****_It Must Be Love, _****give it a try. It always makes me smile :)**

**Thanks again for all your support for me and this story, and also for the support so many of you have given my original work. I wish you all a wonderful new year, and hope 2014 brings you all you wish for.**

**Happy New Year! Sue**


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**-000-**

**THREE YEARS LATER….**

This will never get old.

Ever.

The speed is incredible, inhuman and effortless – closer to flying than running. My hair streams behind me in a mahogany wave. My feet barely touch the ground, they leave no mark, no sign that I've been here. As I race through the woods the world should be a blur, but I can see every vein on every leaf of every tree I pass. Some miles ahead, there's a creek. I can hear it. And smell it. From the sound I can judge its depth and width. It's about eighteen feet across, maybe twenty, but I'll jump it like I was stepping over a garden hose.

No, this will never get old.

Behind me the woods are silent. The sound of Edward's footfalls has disappeared and I grin. If I stick with my plan then today I will win. My first victory. And won't I rub it in afterwards, when he has to make good on our bet.

I breathe deeply, pulling the chill Alaskan air into my lungs. The scent of early spring makes me smile and along with wildflowers and pine, my nose tells me there's caribou a couple of miles east. But I won't be bothering them. I've had my fill for now. I can still taste bison and bear on my tongue.

My feet carry me forward and now that creek comes into view – crystal water chattering over mossy rocks. A second later it's behind me and my feet aren't even wet.

Town isn't far now. I can hear the distant rumble of a bus, and the faint jingle of the bell over the post office door. There are murmurs of conversation and the thump of something being loaded into the back of a pick-up. The town is coming to life and the day is starting for the people of Healy. Judging by the pale light from a cloud-covered sun, it's about nine in the morning. Edward and I have been hunting since midnight. Well, not _just_ hunting. My skin tingles as I remember him naked in the moonlight, his hard body against mine…

"Damn!"

My foot falters on a rock and I quickly shut the memory down because I can't let myself get distracted now. I glance over my shoulder, hair whipping my face as I check for Edward, though I know he's not there. Even so, when I see the empty woods behind me, a new grin spreads across my face. I really think I've got him this time.

This race is mine.

We do this sometimes; split up after a hunt and race each other back to the car. In the two years since my change there have been eleven races and Edward has won each of them; the speeds he can reach are incredible. Even during my newborn phase, when my strength and speed were at their peak, he was still so much faster. I'll never beat him unless I use cunning. And that's what I'm doing now. I've changed the course he'd expect me to take, looking like I've gone out of my way before cutting back sharp, arriving at the other end of town and walking down the main street to where the car is parked at the head of a tourist trail. This route isn't as direct, but the woods this way are much thinner. I'll have a clearer path, less to dodge. I won't win by much, but I will win.

The first glimpse of buildings appears through the branches. A second later I break through the tree line and slow to a brisk walk, laughing quietly to myself. In the distance is our steel-grey Jeep, all alone in the small parking lot, beneath the sign that says 'Tourist Trail This Way', and there's no gloating Edward in sight. Yes!

The morning is cool, so I zip my jacket and shove my hands in my pockets, like a human would do. With purpose, I walk past Daisy's Diner and the post-office, then cross the road, making a steady beeline for that Jeep. We're going to collect the mail while we're in town, and grab some supplies from the general store, but I don't dare stop now, just in case. Edward and I can run errands together, quickly, after I've won. Then we'll hurry home and Alexander will greet us with hugs and giggles after spending the night with Aunty Rose and Uncle Em. My still heart swells and I almost hug myself as I think about cuddling my son in my arms.

From the front pocket of my jeans, Edward's ringtone plays at the same time I hear the muffled sound of my name.

A woman is hurrying out of the diner, bundled up in a thick jacket, with a beanie pulled down low and a scarf over the bottom half of her face – like she's ready for an arctic winter instead of an Alaskan spring. The phone keeps ringing. The woman is waving and calling. While my mind quickly shuffles through the few residents and shopkeepers of Healy that I've seen or met, looking for a match, her scarf falls away and my jaw drops.

"Oh my God." A shattering mix of panic and joy rushes through me. I feel like I've grabbed hold of a live wire and my knees almost buckle. "Mom?"

This isn't supposed to happen. I was never supposed to see her again. After that last visit two Christmases ago it was supposed to be all emails and texts and blurry photos before my faked death next year. We thought it was best to stay in Alaska until then. Renee's always hated the cold.

I'd cried for a week after that last visit. Edward had cried with me. Now, my eyes prickle and burn and I'm blinking fast, and though no tears come I feel the quiver of my bottom lip.

"Bella!"

My phone stops. Edward can't be far, and I realise now that he's probably picked up on Renee's thoughts. Or maybe Alice has called him. But the warning has come too late.

"Bella!" She's coming closer. Her heart is thrumming an excited beat, the blood singing in her veins. Her eyes are shining, full of love.

A mother's love.

I know exactly how that feels.

But I also know exactly what I have to do here. I have to turn my head and hurry away. Disappear quickly, changing my posture so completely as I walk that Renee will be certain she's made a mistake. But I can't move. My feet that were so swift a moment ago, are suddenly rooted to the pavement. My phone is ringing again, U2 somehow sounding more frantic this time. Renee's beaming at me, while my heart does battle with my brain and my feet stay still.

"Bella! Honey, it's me!"

A broken sob escapes me. "Mom!"

Now my feet are moving. Moving fast. Towards her. Renee flings her arms wide and in just a few steps I'm across the road and swept into her embrace.

She hugs me tight and my words are lost. I just wrap my arms around her and absorb her warmth and her love, and her scent which burns in my throat though I barely notice. I'm wrapped up in faded memories of her and me and suddenly I'm nine years old and arriving home from summer camp. I've missed her so much. My body shakes as I sob silently against her shoulder and she rocks us back and forth.

"Bella," she croons as I gulp sharp, shaky breaths.

"Wh…what are you…how…?" I can't think straight. I'm so overwhelmed I can barely form a sentence. The words I _do_ find, come straight from my heart. "Oh Mom, it's so good to see you." So good.

She chuckles. "It's good to see you too. And it's been so long. I know we text and email, but I've missed you and I've been looking at old photos and I couldn't wait another year for your research project to finish, and I know it's hard for you to get away because of it, so I thought I'd come to you." She pulls back, holding me at arms length as we stand on the sidewalk. "Surprise!" She laughs. "I've booked three nights at the Healy Welcome Inn." There are tears in her eyes, but as she wipes them away her laughter fades and that beaming smile slowly dissolves into a confused frown. There's a quick skip in her pulse as she studies me closely now. My joy vanishes and I feel a stab of fresh panic as I wonder how to explain why I don't look quite the same; why my features are sharper, more refined.

"Oh, Bella," Renee whispers, leaning in close. "Honey have you had botox?"

-0-

My mother has always been a little scatter-brained. Impulsive and erratic. But her instincts have always been sharp. Like at our wedding, when she told me quietly that Alice was almost other worldly, and Esme seemed like she was from a different time. She'd said similar things about Edward and Carlisle… "It's almost like they don't quite belong here with us mere mortals." She'd laughed as she'd spoken, but her eyes had been curious.

"No," she murmurs now, searching my face. "This is more than botox."

I look down, letting my hair become a curtain. Maybe I should say I've had some work done – plastic surgery after an accident I didn't want to worry her about. Would that work?

I can hear Edward in the distance now as he crashes through the trees about three miles south.

"And your eyes…"

"Contacts," I lie quickly. "I found out last year I needed glasses, so I got contacts. Thought I'd go for a different colour. For fun. You know…"

My laugh is shaky. Renee's smile is uncertain.

She reaches up to gently touch my face. As she makes contact, her frown deepens, her voice is hesitant as she continues. "Um, so a couple of nights ago there were ads on the TV for cheap air fares to Alaska. It was almost like a sign from the universe. Bella, are you okay? You seem a little…distracted." Her thumb strokes tenderly across my cheek and though I struggle to know what to do, I still lean into her touch.

"I'm fine. Just, you know, surprised."

She nods slowly, her thumb keeping up its gentle caress. "Well, okay then," she says. "So anyway, the airport bus dropped me here just a little while ago. I was going to call you while I had a coffee and I couldn't believe it when I saw you through the window. Oh, honey, you're so cold. Colder than the weather."

My vampire mind, normally so clear and calm, is all chaos. I want to tell my mom everything; about me, about her grandson, but all I can offer her is lies. But what lies exactly? How do I play this? And where is Edward? I feel like my heart is going to break. But I fix a smile on my face and keep on lying.

"I've just been outside too long." Renee drops her hand as I rub mine together quickly, then cup them at my mouth to blow into them. "It's from the wind-chill. Makes everything feel colder, that's all. " As I make another show of blowing into my hands, the sleeve of my jacket shifts and the bracelet on my wrist comes into view, distracting Renee. She grins, and I feel a very fragile sense of relief.

"Oh my, now that takes me back about twenty years," she says, touching the bright band of colour. "Sarah Black…you remember Jacob's mother? She had one just like it and I thought it was the prettiest thing. Did this come from La Push?"

"Um…" I nod vaguely. The bracelet, intricately woven and delicately beaded in traditional Quileute style, had been made by Kim. It represents family and was a gift from her and Jared when Alexander was born.

"We should get you inside, out of the cold." Renee changes the subject again as she takes my hand in hers. Her eyes are suddenly speculative once more as my bracelet is forgotten and her gaze focuses on my face, then drops to our hands. She looks up again, meeting my eyes, and her heart starts a rapid, panicked beat as a sharp gasp escapes her lips. I don't know where it's come from, but I see the truth begin to dawn in her eyes. The colour drains from her face. My own chest tightens and burns with dread. She drops my hand as she takes a fast step back and the small distance between us feels like miles. Each second is a century. She covers her mouth with her hands as her eyes do a long drag from my head to my feet and back again – like she's looking at me for the first time, and is scared of what she's seeing. Her expression is painful to see and I can taste her fear. It's acrid and sharp on my tongue. I don't know what to say, or do. I wring my hands as my mother's heart pounds like it will break her ribs.

"Mom…"

"No," she gasps. "It can't be…"

I hold out a trembling hand. "Mom, I…I'm still me."

Thank God Edward is near the edge of the woods now, down by the tourist trail. I catch his scent and I know the second he comes into view, though my back is to him.

"Hey!" he calls brightly.

Renee's head turns sharply in his direction and I follow her gaze. He's jogging down the middle of the road, a well-practiced smile on his face. To anyone else it would seem like my mother's sudden appearance has made his day. But I can see the tension in his eyes, and in the set of his shoulders, and the way his feet hit the road, and I'm desperate to know what he sees in my mother's mind. When he reaches us, he curls his arm tightly around my waist and pulls me in close.

"Renee…" he says quietly, though there's the subtlest shake in his voice. Her eyes rake his body, top to toes. "Why don't we go somewhere…," he begins, but she shakes her head, holding up her hand for him to stop. Then she faces me once more, her eyes staring deep into mine.

"Mom…?"

There's a change in her expression, a shift in her posture. She takes a deep breath as Edward exhales and his body almost sags into mine.

"What?" I look between the two of them – Edward staring at Renee, Renee starting at me. And I can't seem to stop shaking.

Surprisingly, her heart begins to slow and calm. Her fear fades and her scent changes. She offers me a shaky, disbelieving smile. Then she opens her arms and pulls me into a fierce, fierce hug. "It's okay, honey," she whispers. "Don't be frightened."

-0-

Edward's hand is on my thigh, squeezing reassuringly, as we sit in a quiet corner booth of Daisy's Diner. We're the only customers and while the staff are occupied with an incorrect order of tinned tuna chunks, Renee drinks strong coffee and talks. I had thought it would be us doing the explaining while she listened, but after a quick explanation about our human-friendly diet and why we're wandering around in the daylight, we've been mostly silent while my mother tells us about the picture of a wolf that once hung on the Black's living room wall, her curiosity about the tribe's traditions and history, her flirtation with spirit animals, and stories from Sarah of the Cold Ones and the wolves.

"It was your bracelet that reminded me," she says, nodding at my wrist as we hold hands across the laminate. "Sarah said they were only legends, but legends have to start somewhere, don't they? I've always thought that. And today, when I saw the bracelet…you know, sometimes the smallest things tell the biggest stories." She gives my hands a squeeze. "You were so frightened for my reaction, I could see the fear in your eyes." A tear escapes and falls down her cheek. "I love you, doesn't matter what you eat or the colour of your eyes. I never want you to be frightened of me Bella."

The sweet irony. The human telling the vampire not to be afraid. That is so my mother.

Renee sits back in her seat. "So, I guess this means the werewolves are real too?"

Edward and I exchange a glance, and that's enough for Renee. She nods. "Of course they are. How could one half of the legend be true without the other? It wouldn't make sense. So I'm assuming Charlie knows? He'd have to, being married to Sue now."

"He knows," Edward confirms quietly.

"But it's not that we decided to tell him and not you," I add quickly. "After he married into the tribe, it was kind of inevitable." Especially when one of the werewolves is his step-son.

"How did he take it?" Renee asks.

"We weren't there when he found out," I say. "But according to Jake he just said it explained a few things then went very quiet for a while. Quieter than usual."

"Processing." Renee nods. "That's what he does."

And when he'd processed, he'd come straight to Alaska, driving through the night to see me and make sure I was okay, and that my change had been my choice. He and Sue are regular visitors now, and Alexander already has his own fishing rod.

Renee exhales and shakes her head a little, as though clearing her thoughts. "I understand how Charlie found out, and obviously I know this isn't something to announce on Facebook, but honestly, Bella, why didn't you _tell me_? What were you going to do? Were you going to just disappear forever? Think I'd forget about you? Fake a death…oh…" She pauses as I drop my eyes. "That was the plan, wasn't it?" Her face pales.

"I'm so sorry." My whisper breaks, my voice disappearing.

"Do you realize what that would do to me?"

I think of Alex, and yes, I know exactly what that would do to her. She looks away and shuts her eyes. And while I want to break down and tell her everything, I'm still not sure how much she can know. Edward and I haven't had a chance to talk and I'm not sure how much more protocol I can breach. It's not just Edward and me who're affected by this, after all.

"Just the thought of getting _that _call…" She shudders, then throws me an accusing glare. "You know, if anyone is going to accept the supernatural, it's me. I've been embracing the weird and wonderful my whole life."

"I know."

"Who taught you to read tea leaves?"

"You."

"Did we make trips into the desert to look for signs of UFO landings?"

"Yes."

"And what did I say that time about the house with the blue shutters?"

I sift quickly through cloudy human memories…blue shutters, blue shutters…I can't remember, but I can guess.

"You thought it was haunted?"

"Exactly!" Renee folds her arms across her chest as if this is final proof that she should have been trusted with the news of my change. "That's why I wouldn't rent it, even though I loved the mosaic tiles in the bathroom." She turns to Edward. "There was a sunburst behind the sink. But the energy was wrong. All wrong."

"It's not that we thought you wouldn't accept Bella's change," Edward says gently. "It's for your own safety that we couldn't tell you."

"_My_ safety?" She looks from Edward to me, frowning. "I'm confused."

"You're in no danger from us, but there are those of our kind who will kill to keep our existence secret."

"Oh…" Renee jerks in her seat as Edward continues.

"And you must understand that other humans aren't as accepting as you."

"No," she murmurs. "They're not. But I wouldn't tell anyone. Not even Phil."

"People slip-up sometimes, without even realizing it."

She blinks at us, and I see a new realization in her eyes. "So if too many people knew and word spread and got back to these others that you talked about…"

Edward nods, clearly reading the rest of the sentence in her thoughts. "Bella would be in danger, too, yes."

"And the rest of your family?"

Edward nods.

Renee inhales sharply. Her eyes widen. Edward angles his head slightly as he speaks quietly to me. "Your mother's protective instincts are incredibly strong," he says. "So is her resolve. She won't be slipping up." He chuckles softly. "Actually, I don't think I'd like Aro's chances if he tried to mess with you, or anyone else in her family."

Sweet relief flows through me and I lean into him, nestling against his shoulder. He kisses the top of my head. Renee takes a long pull at her coffee and Edward and I continue our quick, under-our-breath, vampire style conversation.

"You picked up on her thoughts while you were in the woods, didn't you? That's why you were trying to call me."

He gives an almost imperceptible nod of his head. "But you didn't answer and then I got a call from Alice." With Jared away on one his La Push visits for a couple of weeks, Alice's visions have been getting a work-out. "She'd seen that you were like a deer in headlights and didn't know why."

"You told her?"

"That your mother was in town looking for you, yes. They'll be waiting to hear what's next." And as Edward's phone has stayed silent, I'm guessing Alice hasn't seen anything else.

Renee puts her mug down and smiles at us.

"You look so right together. I've always known the universe had something more planned for you, Bella. Something extraordinary." She sighs. "Is there anything else I need to know?"

Edward and I exchange a look. I'm not sure what else he wants to reveal so I'm kind of surprised when he leans forward and tells her quietly, without any preamble, that he can read minds.

Renee's eyebrows almost hit the ceiling. She stares at him and he smirks. "Forty two," he says. "Pamela Anderson…Yellow Submarine…fish and chips…er, no, it's not a vampire thing, it's just me…it can't be learned, no." Renee's eyes flick towards me and Edward laughs. "Yes, except hers is the one mind I can't read…no, we don't know why…"He laughs again. "It used to frustrate me, but I think I like it that way now."

"Excuse me, I am right here." I wave my hand in the air. "Hello."

Edward gives me a sheepish look. Renee looks slightly abashed.

"Sorry, honey. That was rude of me, talking to Edward in his head in front of you. But this is amazing. I always thought ESP was a possibility if a person was really tuned in. I've read books about it. I even went to that seminar once. Remember Bella? That lecture on _ESP And You_." She pauses for a quick breath. "I guess this means I should be careful what I think around you now, Edward." Then she shuts her eyes and gives a dismissive wave of her hand as she chuckles. "What am I saying; everything I think comes right out of my mouth anyway."

I've always suspected that was true.

The discussion over the tinned tuna is becoming more heated. A waitress escapes the tension, stomps her way to our table and demands to know if anyone wants to order more coffee. Renee's drained her mug, Edward's and mine are untouched. We all decline and the waitress stomps away again. "Well she's a little ray of sunshine," Renee mutters. "I can do without a cupful of her anger, quite honestly. Tell me what she's thinking, Edward?"  
>"Mom!"<p>

"What?"  
>"You can't do that," I hiss, leaning across the table. "It's like reading her mail."<p>

"Oh, it is not," she retorts. "And I'm sure he's kept you in the loop with people's thoughts sometimes. Don't tell me you've never asked the same question."  
>I sit back in my seat and fold my arms. Edward's trying not to laugh. Renee nudges my foot under the table and suddenly I'm smiling.<p>

"This is like old times, isn't it?" she says.

"Yeah."

She reaches across the table and I put my hand in hers. "I've missed you," she says.

"Missed you too." And I didn't realize how much until I saw her in the street half an hour ago. Or maybe I just wouldn't admit how much.

"Renee, Bella and I want you to stay with us while you're here." Edward smiles at me as he addresses my mother and a bubble of happiness swells in my chest.

"I get to keep my Mom," I whisper so only Edward will hear. He leans over, kisses my temple, and turns to face Renee.

"I didn't want to be in the way," she says. "That's why I booked the hotel."

Edward shakes his head. "Not going to happen. Our place isn't large, but there's a study that converts to a guest room. You'll stay with us. And besides, there's someone we want you to meet."

-0-

In the backseat of the Jeep, Renee is still shell-shocked.

"A grandson," she mutters for the eighth time. "How old? I know you told me, but…a grandson."  
>"He's two." Sitting sideways in the passenger seat, I beam at her and then at Edward.<p>

"Alexander," she says. "Alexander Masen. Alex Masen. That's a good strong name."

"We thought so too."

"A grandson," she whispers again. "Oh! Stop the car. I should bring him something!"

"Mom, you don't have…"

"Yes I do! I can't meet him empty handed, what sort of grandma would that make me? Now, what sorts of things does he like? Edward, turn this car around."

"Seriously, Mom, he doesn't need…"

"He likes painting," Edward interrupts quietly. "If you offer to paint a picture with him, he'll love it."

"Oh…" Renee loses some of her bluster. "You know, that's a lovely idea. I used to paint with Bella all the time."

She settles back in her seat again. "A grandson," she mutters.

All is silent for a while and I wonder if Renee might actually fall asleep from her early start, long flight, and overload of supernatural revelations. But no. She's just gathering her thoughts because a few miles from home, the rapid-fire questions start.

I answer all the clichés about crucifixes, fangs and garlic. She's fascinated about the speed and strength, vision and hearing. Then I gloss over some basic info about vampire pregnancy and birth. I leave out the agony of my three day transition. And then she's curious about my newborn phase.

"Were there any…did you…you know…" She waves her hand around vaguely, trying not to spell things out. "Slip? I mean, I'd understand if you did…"

"No. No slip-ups. Clean slate." Though there were a couple of very close calls, and one time it took both Edward and Emmett to hold me back from going after a hiker who'd wandered too far from the track. But Edward kept the promise he made while I was human, and made sure I never did anything I'd regret.

The conversation moves on and Renee's excited by my plans to write children's books and Edward's recent appointment, thanks to some forged documents, as an online course co-ordinator for the psychology department in Chicago University's distance education program.

While we talk, Edward calls Carlisle and fills him in. Thank goodness for vampire brains. Part of me is focused on Renee and explaining to her that vampires don't need dentists, while another part listens in to Edward's whispered call. After Alice's vision and her call with Edward, they'd been waiting to hear the outcome. I'm nervous for Carlisle's reaction to our decision, but after a long pause he says he understands, and there's almost a sense of inevitability in his tone. "It will be good for Alex to know his grandmother," he says. "I'll let everyone know here. And tell Renee we're looking forward to seeing her again." Edward thanks him before slipping the phone away. He rubs his hand back and forth over my thigh.

The change in relationship between Carlisle and Edward has been subtle and though I know it started back when Edward lost and then regained his memories, the new dynamic has become clearer since our marriage and Alex's birth. Carlisle will always be like a father to Edward. His opinion will always be valued, and his advice sometimes sought, but Edward is his own man now. He's Edward Masen, head of his own family, protector and provider, and his relationship with Carlisle is as one man to another, not as a father to a teenage son. I lean over and kiss Edward's cheek. In some ways, he's so far removed from the boy I knew in Forks, I barely recognise him. And not just because my memories are cloudy.

"You know," Renee says, shaking her head and smiling. "I thought I was the one with the surprise, coming here unannounced. But all this?" She motions between Edward and me. "All this really trumps my ready-saver air fare."

-0-

When we pull up outside our house deep in the woods, Renee is all oohs and aahs. The Cullen's original stone house is large and was built a hundred years ago, but a separate wing has been added for us and Alex. And another one for Kim and Jared. Emmett calls it the Cullen Compound.

While Edward goes to collect Alex from his aunty and uncle next door, I take Renee inside for a tour.

"Oh, this is lovely." She moves slowly around the living room with its oversized armchairs and built-in bookshelves, and goes to stand by the stone fireplace. "Very nice." She gives her approval to the small kitchen that I designed with Esme's help and gets teary as we stand in the doorway of Alexander's room. "Such a pretty quilt on the bed," she says. "I love all the little appliqued sailboats. Does he like boats?" She looks at the samples of her grandson's artwork that we've displayed on the walls and chuckles. "Looks like he does."

"He's crazy about them. We took him to Port Juneau just last week." It had been the best day, with rows of boats all shapes and sizes and Alex had been so excited. The resulting photos used up almost all the memory on my camera.

"Is that…it is! You've painted Winnie the Pooh's tree house on the wall! And look…" She goes to the dresser and picks up the jack-in-the-box. "I haven't seen one of these for years. It looks antique."

"It is. It was Edward's. It was his favourite toy when he was small."

She looks at me, surprised. "A sentimental vampire," she smiles.

"He kept a few special things. In storage. When Alex is a bit older he'll inherit a complete set of tin soldiers and the complete works of Jules Verne."

We move onto the study and together we pull out the queen size sofa bed and make it up.

"Is this where you'll always live?" Renee asks as we take a side each and tuck in the sheets.

"No. We still have the house in Bowery Lane and we always will. It's like our home base and we'll inherit it from ourselves every fifty years or so."

"Clever." Renee nods approvingly and I can't believe I'm having this conversation with my mother.

"And then Edward still has his childhood home in Chicago. The Cullens have other places scattered across the country." And now that I think of it, with Renee knowing the truth and us not having to keep hiding away here, we can probably move back to Bowery Lane and its lime green bedroom sooner than we thought.

As we toss the pillows in place, there's the sound of laughter from outside, and the excited squeals of a small boy.

"Is that him?" Renee asks, looking up. I nod and we hurry to the living room window and my heart swells at what I see. Alex is riding on his father's shoulders as Edward jogs across the grounds. Both of them laughing, their faces lit up, shining, like this is the best game in the world.

"More!" Alex cries out. "More, Dad!"

So Edward gives him more; changing direction, zig-gagging along the driveway, throwing in some jumps here and there, so Alex bounces up and down.

"Oh, he's gorgeous," Renee whispers. "He has Edward's hair colour."

"I know. And his eyes are brown. Edward says they're my eyes."

Renee grabs my hand and squeezes. "Listen to him," she says. "That laughter…I've never heard anything so…it's like music." She starts sniffing and rummages in her pocket for a tissue. "He's beautiful. But I can't tell…how is he different?"

"It's not obvious," I say, chuckling as I watch my husband become a horse for his own amusement I think, as much as our son's. "He's a little more advanced than the average two year old, but not so much that it would seem too unusual."

"You're saying he's smart," Renee says and I have to agree.

"Yeah. He's smart. And his heart rate is slower than a human child's, and his body temperature is lower. He eats human food but he doesn't need as much sleep, six hours a night and he's good to go. Apart from that…" I shrug. "We'll have to wait and see."

"Does he sparkle?"  
>"No."<p>

"Can Edward read his mind, too?"

That's something we're not sure about. "So far, no. He does get flashes of his thoughts here and there, but that's all. Whether that will change, we don't know."

Renee nods, her eyes transfixed on the scene going on in the driveway.

"He must have been a beautiful baby."

Around my neck is the antique silver locket that Edward gave me the morning Alexander was born. I tug it gently from beneath my sweater and open it.

"We have lots of other baby pictures," I say as my Mom takes a close look. "But this is Alex when he was only a day old."

Her eyes mist over again. "Adorable. You can see the faint tint in his hair even there can't you?"

I smile. Alex didn't have a lot of hair when he was born, but what he did have had definitely come from his father. It was the first thing I noticed when Edward put him in my arms.

Outside, Edward slides Alex from his shoulders and they begin a game of tag around the car. Edward allows himself to be caught and then it's his turn to chase Alex, who darts in and out between the Jeep and my Honda on his chubby little legs.

"Does he have friends?" Renee asks. "Does he get to play with other children?"

"Not a lot." My heart clenches a little. No story is perfect and this is the catch to having a hybrid baby. "We go the park and if there are kids there his age he'll play. And he'll go to school when it's time, but right now, while he's so young, it's too risky for him to interact too much with human children."

"Because he might say something to raise people's suspicions?"

I nod. "But Jacob and Beth visit a lot with their son, Nicholas. He's the same age and the boys play well together." And his uncles are like big kids. Jared phases so Alex can ride on his back. Kim and Alice paint and draw with him. Some days Edward and I barely get a chance to see him! "He's well loved. And there are other kids like him out there in the world, we just have to find them."

"Is that difficult?"

"Carlisle and Edward are making _discreet enquiries_." I punctuate the last words with air quotes and Renee smiles.

When at last they come inside, Alex runs into my arms.

"Mama!" I lift him up and he wraps his arms around my neck and squeezes as tight as he can. "You getta bear?"

"I did get a bear," I say, nuzzling his downy cheek with my nose and breathing him in. "A big brown one. Did you have fun with Aunty Rose and Uncle Em?" He nods and holds his little hands out wide. "That much fun, huh?" He nods again, more vigorously this time. "What did you have for breakfast?"

"Gamble eggs."

"Scrambled eggs? Yum!"

If I could hold him forever, I would, but a second later he's wriggling to get down so I set him on the floor and he makes a beeline for his wooden train set laid out in the corner near the bookshelves. He gets busy with the string of carriages, pushing them back and forth along the tracks, round the figure-eight, making toot-toot sounds as he goes.

Renee is standing back, almost hidden in the doorway to the hall, watching on. She's enraptured, it seems; a look of silent wonder on her face. I've never seen her without words before.

"Alexander," Edward goes to crouch beside him on the floor. "There's someone here who'd like to say hello." He motions for Renee to come forward. "This is Grandma Renee."

"She's my mommy," I add, to hopefully give him some context.

There's curiosity in Alex's eyes, but a smile on his lips as Renee crouches down too, and says a quiet hello. The grin I'm wearing is so wide it almost hurts.

"You inna photo." Alex drops his train and goes to the bookshelf, tugging out an album from the bottom shelf where we keep his Dr Seuss collection and Winnie The Pooh. "Look, Renny."

"Renny," Renee whispers, looking up at me through tears. "He calls me Renny. I love it." She wipes at her eyes and then gives her full attention to Alex and the pictures.

The photo albums are a big part of our life. They tell stories, not just of major events like the wedding or my pregnancy, but little every day moments too. It was Edward's idea to keep a visual record of as much of my human life as possible, to help me keep as many memories as I could, and to share them with Alex.

Edward knows what it's like to be without memories.

And looking through the pictures is one of Alex's favourite things to do; he's fascinated that he can see the same person in real life, and in a picture, at the same time.

He flops down on his bottom, clumsily turning the pages, going past my graduation, and Edward's, and photos of the day we moved into Bowery Lane, until he comes to a shot of our wedding. He points triumphantly to the image of Edward and me with Renee and Phil.

"Yes, that's me," Renee says, delighted. "And who's that?"

"Mama."

"And this?"

"Dad."

"And this man," Renee points at Phil. "This is a friend of mine."

"Phil," Alex says clearly. Renee blinks and glances up at me.

"We have told him about you both," I say. She smiles, wide and warm, and turns back to the album.

"Jacob. Beff." Alex points at another photo. "Gampa Charlie. Sue. Billy."

"Lots of friends and family," Renee smiles. "And look at that tree behind us all. It's a big tree, isn't it?"

Alex nods and spreads his arms wide again. "Dis big. Bigga than Daddy."

"It _is_ bigger than Daddy, you're right. And doesn't Mama look beautiful?"

Alex nods again. "She holding flowas. She likes flowas. We pick some yestaday."

We did. While we'd been walking through the woods. The vase of little yellow spring wildflowers is sitting on the coffee table. Along with a couple of rocks and a piece of stick that caught Alex's fancy and couldn't be left behind.

Edward rubs a gentle hand over his son's coppery head, then he straightens and comes to stand behind me. Wrapping his arms around my waist he rests his chin on my shoulder. "She's good with kids," he says.

"She is. Always has been."

Alex pushes the photo album aside and stands up. "I got swings. Come and I show you, Renny."

Renee shoots us a beaming smile as she takes his hand and together they walk through the French doors, across the patio and beyond, to the world's most elaborate swing set. Alex scrambles onto the seat and Renee gently pushes.

"This feels so surreal," I whisper.

"More surreal than becoming a vampire?"

A soft chuckle rolls through me. "It's up there."

Edward pulls me down with him onto the squishy leather sofa. He settles me comfortably across his lap, then reaches for the discarded photo album.

"You did look beautiful," he says.

"It was a beautiful wedding."

"It was."

Dusk in the back garden of our home in Bowery Lane. Fairy lights in the trees. A wooden dance floor beneath the stars. Jasper had played guitar while Rosalie sang and I'd waltzed with Edward in the moonlight. The love in his eyes that night is one human memory that's crystal clear.

"The honeymoon was pretty good, too." Edward leans in and kisses my neck.

"Mm, can't remember," I tease.

He growls and his voice rumbles up from deep in his chest. "I'll make sure to remind you later."  
>I giggle and turn the page. "Oh look, Isle Esme, <em>now<em> I remember." Photos of me sitting on the beach. Paddling in a lagoon. Eating a mango. There's Edward by the edge of a waterfall. Another of him lying in a hammock. "You won't have to remind me after all."

"Mm, I was thinking I'd remind you of the other photos. The ones in the private album."

"The ones with me in the blue bikini?"

He traces a slow circle over my hip. "Uh huh."

It suddenly feels hot in here and I turn the page quickly, remembering that my Mom and Alex are just fifty yards away. They've abandoned the swing and he's demonstrating how he can hang upside down from the monkey bars while she hovers beneath, arms outstretched.

"I love this photo of you," Edward says.

"I was huge."  
>"You were gorgeous."<p>

Except for a few brief, enforced hunting trips, he hadn't left my side for a second of the pregnancy. And he'd taken a photo almost every day. Only a selection had made it into the album.

"My feet swelled. And my hands."

"You glowed."

"Are we talking about the same pregnancy, Edward?" He chuckles softly. "I mean, you were there, by my side, every single second. You sure you didn't notice the swelling?"

He shakes his head, grinning. "Only in your belly."

I give a very deliberate eye roll and he chuckles.

"I did enjoy the foot massages, though. And the shoulder rubs. The tummy rubs, too; they were good. And the baths together; they were bliss."

Edward winks at me. "Still are." And though I don't blush, my skin tingles. I glance down at the album.

"Ah, now this is a photo I love." It had been taken by Esme, not long after Alex was born. His tiny body wrapped in a blue blanket, he lays nestled in his father's arms. The look of gentle disbelief, the overwhelming joy and love, in Edward's face makes my skin tingle.

"I was euphoric. And terrified," he whispers, staring at the photo. "I'd never known joy like it, to hold _my son_ in my arms, and then lay him in your arms, but I also knew what was coming next. And that terrified me."

I touch his face and he nuzzles against my palm. "It's all a bit hazy, but I think…you were trembling when you bit me."

"I was shaking so much I could barely see your jugular."

"But your voice was steady when you told me to grab you hand and hold on. And when you said you loved me. I remember that clearly. It's my last human memory."

He smiles and kisses me softly, sweetly. Outside there are laughs and giggles as Renee spins Alex gently on the little round-a-bout and Edward and I smile as we watch.

"Is the rest of the family okay about Renee?" I ask. "What did they say when you went to get Alex?"

"There's no problem with Renee," Edward says. "They all like her, you know that. And they're glad for you, and for Alex, that she's in our lives. But there'll always be concerns when a human knows we exist. Not just for us, but for her." He curls a strand of my hair around his finger slowly. "But I told them what I've seen in her thoughts. How strong her protective instincts are, and Jasper had picked up on her psyche at the wedding and he agreed, she's flighty in a lot of ways, but once her mind is set, that's it.

It's a pretty accurate assessment of my mother, really.

"Has Alice seen anything else apart from me in a state of shock?"

"Only that she and Esme are going to Fairbanks with you and Renee tomorrow afternoon to see an art exhibition." There's a smirk on Edward's lips and I throw my head back and laugh.

"I don't think that's a vision. That's a plan. But Renee would like that. It's kind of Alice to think of it."

"They'll all come over in the morning to see her and say hello, after she's had today with you and Alex."

Edward shifts slightly, pulling me closer, but frowns as he does so. "What the…?" He reaches behind him, beneath the sofa cushion, and pulls out two rocks – one black and rough, the other grey and smooth. He stares down at them, eyebrows slightly raised. "Looks like he's found a new place for his secret stash." He chuckles, and leans across me to set the rocks with the others on the coffee table. "At least it's not in the toilet this time, thank God. I don't think the plumbing could take any more rocks."

When Alex has had enough of spinning around he stumbles off, takes Renny's hand and leads her to the spring flower beds that Esme's worked so hard on. They sit together on the wooden bench, pointing at the plants and chatting. Alex is telling her about the picture of a boat he and Daddy painted yesterday. "S'on my wall," he says. "Wif ticky tape."

"You know what? I think we should buy a boat," Edward says suddenly. "We'll moor it somewhere and we'll take Alex out on it. And sometimes…" He flashes me a cheeky smile. "Just you and me. We can lie on the deck in the sun. Dive off and swim." He threads his fingers through mine. "We can take Alex to discover hidden coves on deserted islands."

"Are there any deserted islands left in the world?"

"If there are, we'll find them."

He kisses my knuckles and I snuggle closer. Outside, Alex is showing Renny how high he can jump, while she claps and cheers. He's so cute, with a huge smile, his hair flopping and his arms flapping as he bounces up and down. Though we didn't think he was cute yesterday morning when he drew a picture on our bedroom wall with his oatmeal. That stuff sets like concrete and pulls paintwork off with it.

"I can't imagine life without him," I whisper. "Edward, do you ever think about how close we came to not having this?" He looks at me, puzzled. "All the near-misses," I explain. "All the things that could have broken us apart. I mean, what are the odds, after you left Forks, that we'd find each other again?" Not very good, I would think.

Edward shakes his head quickly. "I try not to think about it. I don't want to remember how…_fragile_, things were." He tightens his hold on me. "Just think about now. What we have and how far we've come."

"I think about that every single day and I'm beyond thankful, but sometimes I can't stop myself remembering, and it scares me how close we've come to..."

"Knock, knock," he says suddenly.

I look up, startled, and see the mischief in his eyes.

"Knock, knock," he says again.

My lips twitch with a smile as I'm taken back to a hazy memory of ink blots and bad jokes. "Who's there?"  
>Edward grins. "Interrupting cow."<p>

My smile becomes giggles. "Interup…."

He swoops in quickly and kisses me so hard that I'm breathless when he pulls back. He's breathless too, eyes dark, and his hair tumbles into his eyes as he smiles down at me.

"Moo," he finishes quietly.

"Moo," I whisper back.

He kisses me again. Softer this time.

"Dad! Dad! Airp'ane! Show Renny the airp'ane!" Alex is jumping on the trampoline, waving his arms as Renee beams at him like he's Christmas and New Years all rolled into one.

"You've been summoned."  
>"I have." Edward presses his lips to my forehead. "But I'll be back to finish this later. Promise." He eases me off his lap and walks across the room, stepping over blocks and the train set. "Here I come!" he calls as he jogs through the French doors. Alex squeals and claps his hands, reaching out to his father who scoops him up and makes zoom-zoom noises as he flies him around in big circles round the swing set.<p>

The heat of Edward's kiss is still on my lips.

We have come a long way. And as I listen to Edward be an aeroplane, and Alex's delighted squeals, I catch sight of _The House At Pooh Corner_, sitting on the bookshelf. My leather bookmark, the one that brought Edward back into my life, sticks out from the top. It's marking the place where Alex and Edward left off last night. And tonight I'll start the next chapter, in which Piglet does a very grand thing. The bookmark's looking a bit rough these days, with chew marks on the corner, courtesy of young Alexander Edward Masen, but it makes me smile as I realise my mother is right…sometimes it's the smallest things that tell the biggest stories.

THE END

**A/N: That's it. All done. After two years I can't believe it's over. Think I might need a glass of wine and quiet moment.**

**Huge hugs, and thank you to everyone who's taken The Keepsake journey with me. It's been a long journey, some of the chapters have been a long time coming, but I truly appreciate your support and your patience, and your reviews and PM's – they've all meant so much to me, I can't even begin to tell you. Thank you.**

**And thank you Melanie, for your betaing skills, and your friendship. You're a star! **

**If you're interested, you can check out my original work, _Over The Edge _by Suzanne Carroll. It's a modern-day love story with a laugh.**

**And if you haven't already, please check out Melanie's original work, a tender love story called _Into The Storm_ by Melanie Moreland. **

**I hope you've enjoyed the epilogue. I'm hoping Bella and Edward do buy that boat, and if they do, I like to think they'll call it the SS Interrupting Cow :)**

**Cheers!  
>Sue<strong>


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